True Love Restraint
by otaku6652
Summary: An unstable, sadistic boy falls obsessively in love with a high school girl. As their fates intertwine, past traumas resurface and new enemies threaten their relationship. But of course, he will cut down anyone who stands in his way. After all, "I'm the only one you love, right?"
1. When I Saw Her

"You stupid little brat! When I get my hands on you, I'm going to slice you into chunks of meat and feed you to pigs!" He yelled, chasing after me with a knife in his hand.

I tore through the immense mansion we lived in, up several flights of stairs until I reached the top floor. There was a gun hidden in my jacket, one he didn't know was there.

Cornered against the balcony, I trembled and faced my father.

"I'm going to kill you." He roared as an evil smirk flashed across his face.

My heart pounded.

Cold sweat dripped from my face and hands.

My eyes widened until my irises were tiny blue pinheads.

I trembled. Tremors ran through my body and zings of energy pumped along with my blood.

Then I smiled.

"Not if I kill you first."

Then I woke up, shivering and panting. That same nightmare. Every night. Like it was reminding me of the sins I had committed.

But the frustrating thing was that it was all I could remember. My mind was blurred and warped by whatever happened when I was a child. The small scraps of memories that sometimes flashed through me were my only clues. I hung onto them with more instinct than desperation. I don't really care what I did, or what was done to me. The only thing that matters is what is happening at this moment.

I pulled the silk covers off of me and quietly exited my bedroom. The house, or mansion, was deathly cold as usual.

The servants and maids turned pale at the sight of me and hurried bowed, always terrified.

The mansion was silent enough to hear my own breathing while I calmly drank my morning coffee. People were too scared to speak to me.

I suppose it's been this way for a while now. Not that I'm complaining; I have no intention of faking politeness towards those pathetic underlings. The loneliness has grown on me in an intrusive way these past couple of years. Silence is peace. I much prefer it over calamity.

Who am I?

Len Kagamine. Rich. Handsome. Cruel. Evil. Psycho. Orphan.

That sums it up.

I don't go to school, even though I'm still a teenager. I have a tutor. Not that he ever actually tutors me. I study on my own. If I want to.

I live in an old castle, far from the nearest city. Isolated. High security that even the police are afraid of. It's like the government either doesn't know I exist, or they just don't care.

I'm alone.

I've been alone ever since that day. Not that I care.

But today I feel a sense of boredom. I guess I'll go out.

The warm, early September air greets me and I cringe. Warmth is so annoying. I want to strangle the sun. Beat it. Slowly trace a knife down its front. But that's silly. It's the SUN.

I take my limousine to the city and get out in front of a church. Maybe I'll go to confession and scare the shit out of the priest. They called me the devil's spawn. I agree.

A bell rings in the faint distance and a flood of students come pouring out from a nearby building. Oh that's right, it's a Tuesday. And around 2pm. School must be out.

People. Simple-minded people my own age. How annoying. I head back to my limo.

Then I saw her. Short, pale gold hair and blue-green eyes. In a short school uniform revealing her bare, smooth legs. Where have I seen her before?

Something throbs inside me and I nearly choke on the air around me. There's a small crack in my chest and a drop of sadness leaks out. My mouth opens and forms a silent word unknown to me. Tears prick the back of my eyelids. I don't comprehend the emotions stirring inside me. In that case, I will adjust them to something I do understand: desire.

My heart rate increased tenfold. My body is on fire. I want her. I want to chain her up in my room and play with her. I want to have her all to myself. I love her...I think.

I go to her.

"Can I help you?" She asks in a sweet, cheerful, high-pitched voice. Is that how she talks to others? Suddenly I want to rip out her vocal cords.

"Don't talk." I mutter. My hand darts out and I grab her by her skinny wrist. I pull her closer and stare at her.

The eyes that stare back are confused and guarded. To her, I'm a complete stranger. But my heart won't stop pounding.

"W-What are you doing?" She squeals.

"I said don't talk!" I yell. That was louder than I wanted. Some people come over. Two girls. One with pink hair and one with blue hair in pigtails. Two boys. One that looks like the blue-haired girl and one with long purple hair.

"Get off of her!" Shouts the boy.

My breath hitches in my throat. They're surrounding me. Yelling at me. I panic. What do I do? They're getting in my way. Are they planning to hurt me? I want to kill them.

But...I don't want to let go. My body is rooted to the ground. I want to get to know her more, preferably away from this obstructive crowd.

I turn back to her. "Won't you come with me for a minute?"

"Are you a pervert? Go away!" Her eyes widen and fear is suddenly reflected in her irises. I rather like that look.

Perhaps I will keep her for a while. At least until I get bored.

I toss her over my shoulder and dash away. The girl shrieks. I laugh. This is fun. I haven't felt this in a long time.

We barrel into my limo.

"Drive!"

My chauffeur accelerates and floors it to my mansion.

"What do you think you're doing?!" She shrieks. She's getting angry. But I can see the panic in her eyes.

"Don't talk."

I drag her into the living room. The doors lock behind us. I smile.

It's time to feed my ever-growing desires.

"Stay with me. I'm the one you love, right?"


	2. Ice Breaking

_SMACK!_

The sharp sound rang through the air.

A stinging pain crept up on my cheek and I slowly turned to look at her.

"Get away from me, you creep!" She screams. She runs to the door and desperately tries to leave.

I start to smile.

"You can't escape." I gleefully boast. She's really scared now. So cute. Her eyes are widening. Such pretty eyes.

"Feel free to stay in any of the rooms here. Even mine." I throw a wink at her with the last sentence. She looks horrified. I even love her horrified face.

Why am I so happy? The girl is nothing but happy but I am bursting with joy. Like a kid getting a brand new toy on his birthday.

Suddenly a flashback ripples through my placid mind.

A small boy with blond hair is curled up on the ground. He silently cries. Alone and desperately wanting someone, anyone, to be with him. There's blood on his shirt and hands. He won't stop shaking.

I harshly suck in air. Clenching my fists, I retreat into the study.

There is a small wooden desk sitting in the middle of rows and rows of books. So many books that there is a staircase leading to the second floor. My books. My beloved books. The only company I accept in this world.

I sit in my favorite spot. In the corner in a niche just large enough for a person in the wall. It's hidden behind a stack of my favorite books. It used to be my hiding place. Now it's just a calm place for me to relax.

What is the girl doing now? Probably taking a look around my mansion. Or trying to escape. Either one makes my heart throb for her. I want to be with her. Where is she?

After some time, I fell asleep. I don't know how long I was there. When I woke up, I found dried tears on my face.

I head outside for my morning coffee. To my surprise, she is already sitting there. Eating. Delicately, similar to a princess. How lovely.

I get closer.

Her eyes are red and puffy, as if she was crying. She notices me but doesn't say anything. I can sense her fear. It thrills me.

"What are you eating?" I ask.

She hesitates before answering. "A sandwich."

I start to laugh at her simplicity in dining choices. Then I get confused.

"Why would you eat a sandwich for breakfast?" I chuckle.

She stares at me. Almost incredulously.

"I'm having lunch. It's 1:30."

"Oh." I say. Maybe I should start keeping track of time so I can coordinate my schedule with hers.

I drink my morning coffee.

She finishes her sandwich. Slowly and cautiously, she starts to leave. I sigh. That was far too little time with her. I should follow her.

I quietly follow her. She goes to the TV room. I haven't been there in years. I hate the television. She turns on a random channel.

A stupid, cheesy program plays. Some kid show about this family with magic powers. They're smiling. Laughing together. Having fun together.

Anger and hatred twists inside my gut. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

"Turn it off!" I screech.

The girl nearly falls off the couch in shock and fear. She scrambles for the remote and turns it off. I sit down across from her. It's quiet.

I like quiet.

After a while, she looks at me and speaks. "Is there any reception here?" I notice a pink cellphone sticking out from her pocket.

"No." I answer. Her face falls. Tears swim around in her eyes. A truly pitiful sight. It's exciting me. I love it so much.

A swift impulse sparks through me.

I jump up and pounce on her. Leering only a few inches away from her face, I pin down her hands and stare at her.

She's open-mouthed and gasping in surprise. Then she scrunches up her face in horror and desperately tries to back away. So cute.

I lower my head and hover above her white neck. I brush my lips across it, feeling the warm skin burn under my touch. When I raise my head, she's bright red.

That will be as far as I go today.

Breaking away our eye contact, I hop off and leave. A grin wildly stretches across my face as I head back into the library.

Her warmth, her touch, her raw emotions pouring out. It's something I haven't experienced for the longest time. I'm burning with the agony of being away from her.

I want to go back to her. Hold her in my arms. Kiss her. Bite her. Grab her. Hit her.

Crazy daydreams run through my head. I haven't been like this before. I touch my lips. I can still feel her soft skin against them. I want MORE.

I sit down at my desk and pull out a pencil and some paper. I can see her ethereal face glowing in my mind. My hand moves on its own until a perfect replica rests on the paper. I stare at it. It will have to do.

I manage to fall back asleep.

It's the same nightmare. But this time, I see her face right before I raise the gun. Her face contorts in terror and disgust at me. The blood is everywhere.

I jolt awake.

Breathing heavily, I shake and moan. It's too much. I can't stand it. I'm being consumed. I hate it.

I run into my niche and pull my knees to my chest.

Relax. Relax. Relax. God dammit.

I go back to sleep.


	3. Fleeting Desires

A/N: I'm thinking of making a love triangle, but I don't know who Len's rival is going to be. Oliver? Mikuo? Kaito? Others? I could use some feedback on this.

* * *

She keeps trying to run away.

Trying every single window and door, attempting to sneak out with every staff member she comes across. Desperately searching for a signal or landline phone. Even sending texts and calls she knows won't go through.

It's truly pathetic and adorable at the same time. Part of me wants to tease her and allow her to wander off, only to pull her back in. Her spirit is admirable, but easily crushed.

Those little friends of hers probably ran crying to the police. I will laugh if they manage to find us. After all the years, I've learned how to hide my footprints very well. I had to.

People these days rely on technology too much. Then they wonder why they get scammed, spied on, lack privacy, and the list goes on. Now guess who holds the advantage in this situation? I have nothing for people to track, no ways of contemporary communication, no way for others to hunt me down.

I found her just a few hours ago on a window sill. Fourth floor. Utterly reckless and stupid.

Her foot slipped.

She screamed as she fell and screamed even more when I caught her. The very sound stimulated my insides. Such a pleasing, wonderful sound. If only she screamed more often.

Her cute face is scrunched up in fright. She peeks at me from the corners of her eyes while trying, and failing, to calm down. I'm surprised by how light she is. Truly my doll, mine to hold and play with as I desire. But a toy isn't supposed to run away.

"Where do you think you're going?" I whisper in her ear.

Not answering, she squirms out of my arms and scampers away. Stumbling over the grass, she swiftly picks herself up and rushes back inside without daring to spare me another glance. What a rude girl she is, after I just saved her life.

Lowering my still stupidly outstretched arms, I shrug and head into my bedroom. I stare at my bed. Most couples share a bed. We ought to sleep together. Just sleeping in the same room would be enough.

Perhaps it would be better if I chained her to my bedpost.

I can still picture her pale face, feel her weight on my arms, her breath tickling my neck, the softness and warmth of her body. A lovely body I want to take control of. The desire burns away at the little emotion I have left.

Dammit.

I shouldn't have let her go so quickly back then.

Where is the little doll now? Drowning her sorrows in whatever room she's sleeping in? Poking away at another, horribly simple sandwich? Watching that damned television I should have gotten rid of long ago?

I go to each possible room and find her curled up on the floor of the bedroom all the way at the end of the house, rather difficult for the average person to find in the maze of hallways. Did she choose it on purpose in hopes that I wouldn't find her? Precious. And naïve.

I know every inch of this house. All nine floors and each and every room. No one can escape me here, and no one can trap me. Unless it's on a balcony.

Upon entrance, she jumps up at the sight of me.

"W-What are you doing here?" She quivers.

I'm bursting with laughter at her unchanging simplicity. "I live here. This entire mansion belongs to me."

"What do you want?" She asks.

"You know the answer to that, I'm sure."

In a heartbeat, I'm on top of her. She's sitting with her back against the wall as I lazily straddle her like a cat. My hands against hers, I lean in.

Gently, I graze over her cheek dangerously close to her lips. Her cheeks grow hot and flushed as a tear escapes from her right eye.

Nimbly, I catch it with my tongue and savor the salty fluid. Yet it's another fluid I crave.

As I move down her body, my attacks grow stronger.

I nip at her white neck and smile at every bruise I leave behind. Her smooth collarbone is like a juicy bone to the wolf that I am. She lets out a small cry of pain as I bite down hard. It sends shudders through my body. But there is still so much to explore.

Her body tenses as I reach a rather sensitive area. Her patience is wearing thin. Still, I am unable to stop myself and buttons go flying as I rip open her white blouse. A graceful, but admittedly plain piece of light yellow fabric adorns her smooth breasts. Disappointingly small, but I continue to love every part of her.

Approaching her cautiously as a hunter would a rabbit, I start with light caresses over the tops. The creamy softness is like nothing I have ever experienced. Pecks turn into licks. My tongue runs over the sweet treat and I indulge myself in vanilla goodness.

"P-Please get away." She whimpers, fully knowing it's no use.

Her pleas only fed the growing hunger inside me and I reach to tear off the yellow cotton barrier between me and the cherry on the tip of the ice cream. Her leg tenses beneath me and I sense a potential threat to my banana. As if that will stop me.

But diving into a pot of gold today would only ruin the rest of the journey. One treasure is for the halfway point, the other is for our ending.

I tease her for a moment, lingering my hand over the fragile line between us. Then I pull away and relief spreads over face.

"Don't think I'm done with you." I murmur.

To add to the dramatics of it, I slink away without another sound, leaving her vandalized and gaping.

Today was a good day.


	4. Flowers

A/N: This is completely from Len's point of view, so if there's something big that I left out, it's probably because Len has no clue or doesn't care. Like how Mikuo (tentative love interest) is scouring the country for Rin. And Rin's conflicting emotions as she tries to understand Len more. And whatever Rin's guardians are doing. Or guardian, I should say.

p.s. I slipped in a shower scene for you fangirls, you're welcome ;)

* * *

Something has changed about her.

She looks at me differently. Less absolute fear and more…something else. I don't understand it.

I led her to the kitchen and sat her down in front of the table. This was going to be fun.

She watches with apprehension as I take a live chicken out from a cage. My servant caught it for me the other day. I didn't know this country had so many wild chickens roaming around. But in this world, money can get you anything. Even innocence in the face of a crime.

"Hold it down." I command.

Her eyes widen with realization and anxiety when she gets an inkling of what's about to occur. Not so simple-minded after all, it appears. So very slightly she shakes her head, as if trying to convince herself that I'm not about to do what she's imagining.

Truthfully speaking, I saw this on the television as I passed by it a little while ago. She had foolishly forgotten to turn the blasted thing off.

I pull out a large, rectangular blade imported from Asia. I just can't wait.

We both tremble. Me, from excitement; her, from dread.

A sickening sound fills the air as blood splatters and spills over us from a violent stab wound in the neck. Its head is completely chopped off from the sheer force of the impact. Warm red liquid dribbles across my face as I look to her in glee.

She is pale and lightly sweating and ready to hurl her insides. Bright crimson paints her white face and dress. Her eyes are shut tight.

"That's what I will do to anyone who comes between us. Because you are my one and only." I say gravely. I sure hope she knows how strong and sincere my feelings are now.

Instead of screaming and running, she only stares at me for a moment and slowly exits. It was a disappointment. Just what is going through her head?

Something has changed.

I haven't seen her since. Where is she hiding? Not in any of the rooms. Where is my pet?

Ah, but before I search, I ought to wash up. Dried blood coats my entire front. I can't possibly present myself to her like this.

Slipping off my clothes, I enter my shower. A rather high-tech device in comparison to the rest of my house. There is a touch-screen panel with many options from water pressure to temperature. I had it installed since I was always washing things off of me.

The ice-cold water splashes over my bare chest and flows down, along with the majority of the blood. I roughly scrub unscented soap over my body and face. Quickest way to get rid of dried blood.

This is only for her. I personally think dark red contrasts nicely to my pale, marble-like skin. Sometimes I leave it on for hours just to concern the servants. And scare them.

Despite my thinness, years of violence has earned me strength beneath my soft skin. I curse my hair for being so…sunny. I always though a pure black would suit me better. My ice-blue eyes, however, freeze through others souls with one glance. Yes, even a psychopath, pays attention to his body. I'm still a teenager, after all.

Only when I'm cold enough to slip into hypothermic shock do I turn off the water. The droplets slide down my biceps, chest, and faint abdominal muscles. I shake my head a bit like a feral dog and my wet hair flops down over my bored face. Never have I felt the urge to wrap a towel around my waist, as I do not come into contact with others very often.

Perhaps I should present myself to her, just like this.

But I don't. In the end, I decide to settle on some old jeans and a leather jacket. Now it's time to go find my lover.

I found her in the yard.

She was trying to fix up the masses of dead, shriveled up plants. How silly.

"What are you doing?" I ask, even though it's obvious.

She jumps and turns around. Why is she always so startled? Does she not realize that I live here as well? "Just doing some gardening."

"All the plants are dead. There's no point." I flatly respond. Is she stupid? All the easier to manipulate.

"Not all of them." She softly murmurs.

A bright orange butterfly weed sat in a pile of dirt. So annoying. The minute she left, I ripped the flower out and crushed it with my hands.

I don't want her to look at or admire anything except me.

I toss the pulpy remains of the flower in the trash.

Yet I can't stop thinking about it. Does she like flowers? Did she want a flower? Why does she find joy in some plant? Should I give her a flower? What's the point?

No. Her love should go to me and only me.

The next day, I gave her a flower.

An arbutus. I rather liked the meaning behind it. "I love only you."

She had a strange look on her face when she accepted it. A mixture of confusion and…surprise? But not the bad kind. It makes me happy.

"Thank you." She says.

As I sit in the library reading, I feel a sense of boredom. I want to do something. I want to do something with her. Now. I'm so BORED.

What should I do with her? Bond her and whip her? Kiss her? Cut her until she bleeds? The thoughts excite me and I'm practically drooling with anticipation.

Then a better idea comes across me.

I find her in the kitchen, chatting with a chef. A raging jealousy consumes me. Never before have I felt a fire burn so strong inside me. I hate the chef for talking to her. I hate him for being near her. I hate him for looking at her.

He's telling her something, something that's apparently so interesting that she didn't even notice me. She listens intently, a range of emotions flickering across her face.

What are they doing? What are they talking about? Why is he in the way?

I hate him.

So I do the obvious. I grab a large knife from a cabinet and stab the bastard in the throat. Blood gushes out and he slumps onto the floor, choking and gasping. He coughs out some more blood and dies, eyes glassy.

Now he will never talk to her again.

I toss the blooded knife onto the floor. It falls with a clatter. Satisfaction runs through me. I did it. I got rid of an obstacle in our relationship. I smile.

But this makes her scream. Her mouth opens and she belts out a high-pitched wailing noise that pierces my eardrums. I love the sound. It's what I desperately craved for earlier. I want to make her scream more.

She runs away. So this is what it takes to make her scream and run.

No. I was going to do something with her. I went to her because I was bored. How dare she run away? Is she rejecting my love for her? No.

I run after her and seize her wrist. She's crying and screaming, trying to get away from me. I greatly enjoy it, but this was not a part of my plan.

Every shrill scream sends sparks of pleasure through me and every tear awakens the beast inside me. It's ridiculously pleasing. But I need to continue with my plans.

Relishing in the glorious sound of her screaming for a bit more, I cut my own pleasure short. Now was not the time. I deliver a sharp uppercut to her stomach and she falls unconscious. So weak. So easily harmed. So much fun.

I take her limp body into my limousine and order the chauffer to take us to the largest flower field in the area. He takes us to one filled with miles of soft yellow flowers.

I deposit her there and shake her until she wakes up. She wildly glances around and sits up in fright. Then she notices her surroundings.

Tears well in her eyes.

"Why am I here?" She whispers.

"You like flowers." I bluntly state. Isn't it obvious?

She stands up and walks through the field. A faint smile begins to form. We walk farther until patches of yellow and green surround us from all directions. By now the limo is only a black smudge in the distance.

I watch her in satisfaction. But then she starts picking flowers and frolicking in them. Smelling them. Enjoying them. I don't understand. What is she doing? They're just flowers. Weak, useless little life forms that are easily trampled.

Then I start to get angry. She should be hugging, thanking, caressing me. Me. Not those pathetic flowers. I brought her here. She should be grateful. She should jump at my kindness. Why is she not paying any attention to me after what I did for her?

My eye twitches. I stomp on a flower. Then two. Then ten. But there are too many flowers.

Burn. I'll burn the whole field.

A tiny boy walks through the field holding his father's hand. He's smiling ear to ear. Then he breaks free and starts running through the field while the father watches with an endearing look on his face. The air the light and sunny and happy.

The boy giggles and plays. He spends hours there while the father just sits and watches. The love between them is clear.

The memory disrupts my mind and I fall to my knees. Tears involuntarily stream down my face. I don't know what's going on. I can't control them. They turn into sobs.

I'm trembling and sniveling like a baby. I can't stop. It's horrible and weak and pathetic, just like the flowers.

She notices. She's walking towards me. What is she doing? Is she going to think I'm weak? She's going to leave me. No. This is wrong. I never should have come here. I want to turn back time.

A soft, warm touch on my head jolts my thoughts. I slowly look up and see her hand just barely grazing my hair. She has a concerned look on her face.

Relief floods through me. I keep crying and she just stands there, stroking my head. It's a wondrous feeling. So soothing.

The ride back home is silent. But this time I'm the uncomfortable one. She saw a weak side of me. Her opinion of me must be lowered. Yet she looks calmer than before.

What is going on?


	5. Government Intervention

A/N: Sorry for the long wait!

* * *

It was just a quiet day. I drank coffee, re-read some old books, sketched some drawings of her, and sharpened my knives. Just a regular morning.

That was, until the loud sirens pierced my ears.

Obnoxiously bright lights flashed through the air and a couple imbecilic policemen barged into my lawn. How annoying.

"Come out with your hands in the air! Bring the hostage with you!" They shouted.

Hostage? I much prefer forcibly invited guest.

Still, I strolled out of my house to greet them. The girl rushed out, relief written on every part of her body. Not so fast.I grabbed her wrist and pulled her small body against mine.

"Where do you think you're going?" I whisper in her ear.

"The police are here. Just let me go already." She says. But what kind of person gives up without a fight?

I walk her out the door like a true gentleman, making sure to keep her pressed to my chest.

The policemen have their guns out, all aimed at my head. "Let go of the girl!" They shout.

Reluctantly, I release my grip on her and settle for holding her wrist with my hand. I shoot venomous looks at the police and they actually hesitate for just one small moment. The tension builds in the air.

Stalemate.

They aren't willing to shoot and I'm not willing to let go. Maybe I should send my servants after them. My mansion has a far superior arsenal and my staff could easily take on a few armed men. With a fair bit of bloodshed and sacrifice, that is.

But where would the bodies go? And the police would surely send in reinforcements.

Then my thoughts are broken by an unwanted intruder.

A boy with hideous blue hair leaps out of the police car and dashes over to us. He seems familiar. Wasn't he one of her stupid little friends?

"Rin! Thank goodness you're okay!" He shouts and clasps her hands.

Before I can even react, she breaks free from my clutch and runs into his arms. They embrace like old friends as she buries her head in his shoulder. But the way the boy looks at her, with the faintest tinge of rouge on his cheeks.

My eye twitches. White hot rage bubbles and stirs in my chest.

"Get away from her!" I yell.

He glares at me. "I should say that to you, you freak." His arms tighten around her and he shifts their bodies slightly, as if to shield her from me.

Rin pulls away her head to look him in the eyes.

"Where's Rinto-nii?" She asks.

The boy is visibly shaken. "I'm sorry, Rin. The day you were kidnapped…there was an accident while he was on his way to pick you up from school. You just missed him."

Her petite body stiffens with disbelief. Her knees give out and in an instant, she's collapsed onto the ground. He holds her gently, but firmly.

As the police hand-cuff me and lead me into their filthy car, I hear sobs resounding in the air. Not cries of fear or despair, but true pain. Something flickers in me.

I feel…sad. For someone else. It's an emotion I haven't felt in years.

I ponder this as I am taken away.

* * *

My court date is tomorrow. The charges are kidnapping, harassment, and sexual assault. Ridiculous.

I only passionately showed my love for her.

But all judges can be bribed in this corrupt world. I walk away scot-free.

The boy is furious. Her stupid little friends with weird hair also come to the courtroom. They stare at me with attempted menace on their pathetic faces.

As I leave the building, I overhear parts of their conversation.

"…a guy like that should be put in jail."

"…psychopath…"

"Are you sure you don't want to appeal this case?"

"You can live with Miku and I."

That part catches my attention. I duck behind a stone pillar and listen in.

"I really appreciate it, but I've been too much of a burden on you guys." Rin murmurs.

"Of course not! You're my best friend, Rin. Please accept our offer." A girl with long pigtails pleads.

"Yeah, there's no way we're going to let you go to some group home or orphanage." That boy argues.

Are they siblings? They both share that putrid blue hair.

"I'm going to try to become an emancipated minor. Rinto-nii and I have some money saved up." She firmly states.

"But you still need a place to live! You can't possibly try to live on your own while going to school." A tall girl with long pink hair says.

"I'll be fine, guys." Rin hugs them with a trembling smile and walks away with her head up, though I can see tears glistening in her eyes.

I stealthily follow her outside the building. So it's a place to stay that she needs?

At some point, she stops walking and turns around.

"I know you're there, Len." She calls out.

I grin and slip out of the shadows. "Then I assume you also know that I heard your little conversation. Aren't you quite the heroine?"

"Look, I really do need somewhere to go…" She begins.

"Say no more. I will gladly be of service to you, my princess." I grasp her hand and bring it up to my lips. These cheesy things work well in books.

"Just don't tell my friends! And one condition, don't hurt or-or stalk or rape me!" She says.

The corner of my lip quirks up. "Promise."

The two of us silently get into my limo and drive off. Ironically, into the sunset.

I stroke the pocket knife in my jacket. Freshly sharpened. I savor the thought of ramming it into the stomachs and throats of each and every one of her friends. Especially that blue-haired boy. I want more than anything to gouge out his eyes.

I promised not to harm her. I didn't say anything about the others.

Once we get home, I help her out of the car and go about my day normally. As I relax in my study, numerous plots and schemes run through my head.

* * *

The next morning, I manage to get up early and get dressed. I had a long day ahead of me.

Her eyes widen as I saunter into the dining room.

"Why are you wearing my school's uniform?" She stammers.

In a heartbeat, I lean in only a centimeter away from her.

"Why do you think?"


	6. High School

"You're seriously coming to school with me?" Rin asked, still incredulous.

"Of course. I need to keep an eye on my lover at all times." I reply.

An expression mingled with protest and discontent spreads across her face. It's her fault for wanting to continue high school, despite my offer of a personal tutor. Stupid, annoyingly cute girl.

Unfortunately, her dumb friends are at the gate waiting for her. Their eyes narrow at the sight of me and immediately, whispers start flying between their spit-filled mouths and unwashed ears. I'll have to make sure to slice off those ignorant lips before driving my knife through their ribs.

Class 2-A? So Rin is a good student. Luckily for me, her friends aren't. Other than the girl with fish hair, it's just me and my doll in the back row. There was a nerdy boy in the seat next to her. Not anymore. Now it's mine.

The teacher is a young man with light brown hair and glasses. He couldn't be over thirty. His good looks are suspicious. If he gets between Rin and I…

"Good morning, class! Today we have a new student. Please welcome Kagamine Len." He pleasantly drawls in a light voice.

I get out of my seat and saunter over to the front. In an instant, everyone's eyes are on me and I can already hear squeals coming from the girls. The female students ogle me with lovesick faces while the males are already judging with both jealousy and admiration. Figures. As if I give a crap about those shallow masses.

"Just stay out of my way and I won't bother you." I truthfully mutter to the class.

More squeals. Great. I place my hand in my pocket and grip the cold steel of my switchblade. The small but deadly weapon fits perfectly in my palm and I ache to use it.

I do a quick scan of the room. Plenty of desks and cabinets, large enough to fit a person in. The students are coarse and rowdy. True peasants in the presence of my delicate princess. So far, they do not pose any sort of threat other than pungent body odor.

Without another word, I sit back down. The lecture is boring and tedious. I've already learned everything the teacher drones on about years ago. Public education is always dragged down by the stupid.

Still, it gives me an entire hour to observe her without notice. The sunlight streams in and illuminates her flaxen hair, giving it the appearance of a halo. My heartbeat quickens at the sight of it, despite my hatred of the sun, as if it's mutinying. She pays rapt attention and takes neat notes, her crystal clear eyes fixated on the teacher.

Aren't you paying a bit too much attention to that man?

Instantly, the teacher lands a spot on my victim list.

Perhaps the only thing good about schools are their uniforms. The girly sailor suit exposes her bare arms, legs, and neck. I long to reach out and stroke the creamy skin enveloping her thin bones. Some parts are almost translucent, revealing pale blue veins underneath a layer of white coating.

Everything about her was petite. From her frame to her personality, I found myself comparing her to a small rabbit. The big, childish bow she wore on her head only extenuated the resemblance.

Now would be a good time to sketch her. But as I reach for a pencil, the bell rings and I am forced to follow her out the door.

Leaning against the wall, I stop her with my arm. "What's next on the schedule?"

Her small hand pushes away my forearm with minimal force. "Lunch."

Already? That period passed by much quicker than I thought. Does this school not have separate teachers for each class? Well that saves time for the students.

Her friends happily greet her at their lunch table and sit down. They stiffen upon seeing me and some of them stand up when I go to sit by her.

"What do you think you're doing?" Exclaims a well-built boy with long purple hair, a bit like a girl.

"This hardly concerns you, inferiors. I am here for Rin only." I bluntly state.

This seems to anger them. The frustrating bluenette siblings face me head on with identical glares.

"You're just some crazy psycho who should be locked up in an asylum! Leave Rin alone!" The pigtails screech.

"I-It's fine, Miku. Just…as long as he doesn't bother us. Don't anger him." Rin warns. Smart girl.

"No way in hell! I'M queen bee around here and you will do as I say in MY school! Leave!" Miku's voice escalates and some heads turn.

Annoyance flickers in me and my fists tighten. Who does this bitch think she is?

"What are you waiting for?! Go!" She screams.

Miku raises a hand to hit me and I catch it with ease. What dumb, delusional trash. Her voice gets on my every nerve. Rough, shrill, and dripping with false sweetness.

She yanks her hand away from my grip and starts to get into an aggressive stance. Idiot.

Suddenly I copy exactly what Rin inflicted upon me during our first meeting. I slap the imbecile hard across the cheekbone. She stumbles back and clasps her hands over the reddening spot, tears of pain welling in her eyes.

Now the whole school is watching.

"Len!" Cries Rin. Her words barely resonate in my head and I ignore her.

"Hey! That's my little sister, you insane bastard!" The boy yells.

He grabs me by the collar and sends a hard punch straight to my face. Blood spurts out of my nose and I glower at him, eyes flashing.

In an instant, I pull the knife out from my pocket and aim for his gut. Raising the blade to gain momentum, the boy has only a second to register his terror before I stab him.

My knife stops a millimeter from his side when a pair of thin arms wrap around my upper body, yanking me back just with enough force to keep me from making a kill.

Rin fiercely tackles me from behind, holding onto me with all her strength to keep me from lashing out. I breathe heavily with adrenaline and rage, but calm just the tiniest at her touch.

"Get away from my friends, Len!" She cries with a muffled voice.

Teachers are running towards us. I quickly snap my knife shut and jam it into my pocket. Grabbing her wrist, I make a run for it while dragging her with me.

She shrieks and tries to squirm away but I hold her firmly as we sprint.

"Shut up or I'll take you with more force!" I yell.

I yank open to door to the nearest room, which happens to be the janitor's closet, and shove us both in. The janitor is actually still in there, startled out of his mind when we barge in.

I pull a hundred dollar bill from my shirt pocket and fling it at the man. "Go."

He readily takes the money and scampers away, chuckling to himself and muttering "Kids these days." as he leaves.

I lean heavily against the wall to catch my breath and take a moment to appreciate the close proximity between us.

Then she scowls at me. "How could you attack my friends like that?!"

"Are you surprised?" I wryly respond.

"Well…I-I not exactly. But don't you dare do anything like that again! I swear to god, I'm going to report you to the police!" She exclaims.

Despite the magnitude of her anger, I can only find her amusing and cute.

"Whatever." As if I'd stop.

She glares a bit longer before her angry eyes start to melt with tears. Slowly, she sinks to her knees and tries to stop her sobs with no avail. Her hiccups and sniffles fill the quiet room and I watch her with interest.

"You're-you're just…Do you even know how horrible my life is thanks to you? You stalk me and torture me, now you're even targeting my best friends. And-and I'm practically stuck with you because you magically have all this power just because you're rich and it's not fair! Rinto-nii…I missed seeing Rinto-nii for the last time because of you!" She stops a moment to suck in air.

"It's all your fault! I hate you so much! Why can't you just leave me alone?!" She weeps.

Now that's not any way to speak to your love. But still, her words ring in my ears. Let her cry and protest all she wants. Rin is but a mere doll of my affections. In the end, I am still her master.

"L-Look…" She starts again, but with a different tone. "I know you're messed up with like, you're childhood and stuff…And I guess I don't blame you entirely, but please leave me out of your life. Get help or something."

"What do you know about me?" I cautiously ask. My breathe hitches and I panic just the slightest. Is this what she was talking about with my late-chef? What does she know?

"Only…that you had a crappy dad and your mom is dead. Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that harshly." She seems a bit taken aback by her own apology.

"No…euphemizing things is a way of fleeing from the truth. It is no way to live." I murmur.

After a minute or two, her sobs begin to dwindle and she rests against the wall, exhausted. Her puffy, red eyes still manage to sparkle with beauty and innocence.

I take advantage of the tight space and move forward. With my knees on either side of her waist, I close the gap between us and place my hands by her head on the wall.

"You know, I really do love you." I whisper.

A droplet of blood trickles from my bruised nose and drips onto her white shirt, splattering it with ruby red liquid.

"Then let me go." She pleads.


	7. Who Do You Love? Part I

"Then let me go." Rin pleaded, eyes big and watery.

Let her…go?

That's ridiculous. She's my doll. My toy. Mine. How on earth could I part with my brand-new puppet? I want to keep her for eternity, whether it's in my arms or locked in my room. She will always be mine to torment and love.

The solution is obvious. If I cut off her legs, she will be unable to run from me. I'll hang up those pretty white legs in my room to keep with me. The two of us shall become inseparable. How about I tear into that perfect spine of hers and paralyze her? I will do it with a sharp little dagger as cute as her.

In one, swift movement, her body shall become limp forever. Just like a doll. She will stay with me forever.

"Please." She whispers.

Her broken, pitiful voice slices through the roaring silence.

Am I hurting her? Good.

Am I hurting her heart? It belongs to me.

We love each other, end of story. Unless…

Pain ebbs its way into my chest. She wants to stay away from me.

What's this?

Am I caring about her?

Without a single word, I lean in and softly kiss her lips. They taste like tears and…oranges. That's right, she was having lunch.

I avoid even the slightest noise as I get up and exit the room. She watches me motionless, with an unreadable face.

* * *

"I love you, Len-kun." The woman whispers.

She gives a small squeeze to the young boy sitting in her lap. He stretches his chubby cheeks into a wide grin and rubs his hand against her.

"Love you too!" He chirps.

The woman smiles and lets a tear escape from her eye.

"Mommy? Why are you crying?" He asks.

Silently, she shifts him off of his lap and walks in front of him. Crouching down, the woman tenderly kisses his forehead.

More tears cascade down her pale face as she turns around and walks away.

"Mommy?" The boy cries again. She doesn't turn back.

Suddenly scared, he gets up and toddles after her on his short legs. Unable to catch up with her quick strides, he begins to run.

Suddenly, a warm hand grabs his shoulder and gently pulls him back. The boy struggles against the person and starts to cry.

"Mommy don't go!" He wails.

After the woman disappears from sight, the boy buries his face in the person's shirt and holds on tightly. The person stands just a few inches taller than him, but holds him endearingly.

I have such bad track records with women. Three have left me so far. Who's next?

I laugh bitterly. Such clichés. Is my life some melodramatic novel written by an emotional teenager?

Sighing, I sink down into an armchair. I don't feel like reading today, perhaps it is the weather. The bookshelves appear to tower much taller than they actually are, spiraling around me and drowning me in a sea of literature.

The school principal, is nothing but a figurehead. Easily bribed and manipulated to my desires. Those bratty blue siblings are now suspended for two days for provocation and misconduct in the school environment. They must be livid.

How I hate those twins. Miku and Mikuo. The most imbecilic names I have ever heard, perfect for those two duds.

She likes them. A bit too much, if you ask me. Especially the boy, Mikuo. Highly suspicious.

The person she loves is me. Right?

Right?

She's wavering. Because of Mikuo. All because of Hatsune Mikuo.

I hate him!

Uncontrollable rage rattles me to my bones and I leap up. In a flash, I shove everything on my desk onto the floor. Papers, pencils, lamps, and books fly everywhere and land on the floor.

Those…bastards!

I grab a random book from my pile and angrily pitch them at the wall. And another. And another. Until the entire stack has been demolished.

But that is not enough to satisfy my ire.

I glance at the floor and notice the switchblade I had used in school yesterday. It lies right by my foot, as if tempting me and mocking me of that fateful day.

Slowly, I bend down to pick it up and a devilish smile creeps its way onto my face. The putrid twins must be enjoying their day off. Wonder what they are up to?

Perhaps I ought to pay them a visit.

* * *

The Hatsunes live in a lovely brick house in a lovely neighborhood. Spring onions grow in a neat little garden in the yard.

It's 10:30am. Anyone other than them should be at work or school. That means the twins are alone. Excellent.

Stroking the blade hidden in my sleeve, I stroll up to the front door and ring the doorbell. A pair of stupidly childish blue pigtails greets me.

"What do you want?" Miku asks in her annoying falsetto wail.

Trying to hide my pounding heart, I smile politely.

"May I have a chat with you and your brother?" I inquire.

She rolls her eyes and curls up her top lip in scorn, but steps aside to let me in. The naïve idiot.

Mikuo growls when he sees me and dashes over. He wears a sleeveless shirt that exposes his finely sculpted muscles. Does Rin find this attractive? I will have to carve them out.

"What the HELL is he doing here?!" He shouts.

"Just to have a word with you two." I attempt to keep my voice reasonably level.

The cold steel presses against my flesh and I itch to whip it out. My fingers twitch in anticipation of slicing through flesh.

"Then talk. What do you want?" Mikuo gripes.

"It would be in your best interest to stay out of the way when it comes to Rin and me." I calmly state.

This seems to ire them. Miku only scoffs, whipping back her long hair and preparing to stand her ground while her brother flushes scarlet in anger and curls up his hands into fists.

"Excuse you! Look you crazy midget, get out of Rin's life and ours! No one wants you here! Take your psychotic ass back to the facility for the really mentally disturbed and leave us alone!" Miku screeches, shoving her make-up plastered face hardly an inch away from mine.

What a bitch. The world would truly be a better place without her.

I lower my arm, allowing my knife to slide out of my sleeve and perfectly into my palm. A devious grin stretches onto my face as I look up to her.

Miku has barely a second to react before my knife slices into her thorax. She chokes and splutters as blood gushes out from her throat and collapses onto the ground, attempting to scream but only pushing out more blood.

"MIKU! YOU LITTLE JACKASS!" Mikuo bellows.

He sprints to the kitchen and grabs both a large knife and a thick stack of napkins. He first rushes over to Miku and attempts to stop the bleeding.

When he fails miserably, he makes a wild dash for the home phone hanging in the hallway.

I've had quite enough of authority getting in my way. Calling the police is not an option at this moment.

Stealthily, I creep right behind him without notice. As he reaches to pick up the device, I ram my bloodied blade through his side.

"Wrong move." I mutter.

Unfortunately, he sees me in the corner of his eyes and jerks to the side just in time. My knife only manages to graze him.

Mikuo grips his own kitchen knife and charges at me with determination in his eyes. The foolish boy. He cannot even compare to my experience in hand-to-hand. Does he think he isn't the first victim to ever fight back?

Still, he has considerable strength, probably from some horrendous sports team. Mikuo manages to disarm both of us and slams me against the wall.

We struggle against each other, like two alpha males thrown in the same room. Oh wait, we are two alpha males in the same room. Except I'm better.

In one, unpredictable move, I suddenly swivel my body around and shove us both to the right. With careful precision, I shift on top of him and slam his head hard against the granite countertop. Just an inch off, and we both would have cracked our necks on that thing.

With a delightfully pleasing crack, he slumps onto the ground.

Now it's time to make my escape.

I go over to an area near the dining room and find a room filled with expensive liquor. I grab a bottle of vodka and walk back to the twins.

First, I open up their mouths and dribble some in. I then pour just a bit around the place so that it reeks of alcohol.

Preparation is key to any plan. I take out a syringe and a bag of drugs out from my jacket.

Using the syringe, I inject more vodka into their system mixed with cocaine so that any sort of medical test will reveal that they were using. Then, I place the bag of weed and the bottle of vodka open on the floor.

Lighting a match, I let a bit of the marijuana burn and create smoke in the air. Enough to detect as you enter the house.

Now any argument or case they try to make will be rendered half useless due to the "intoxicated" state they were found to be in.

But I also need to seal the other half.

Carefully, I create and elaborate set up with the knives in their kitchen along with some rearranged furniture and food.

To any crime investigator with a good eye, it will seem as though the twins decided to get drunk and get high while home alone. Poor Miku then decided to cook, clumsily chopping up vegetables and pouring water into a pot to boil.

She then slipped on some spilled liquor and accidently grazed Mikuo in the side. Not completely noticing in his half-conscious state, Mikuo saw the knife in her hand and had the brilliant idea of playing darts with the kitchen knives.

He actually managed to land one on the board, though the other knives of various varieties landed somewhere in the general direction.

One, however, he accidently threw at Miku as she was staggering around and bend down to grab some fallen leeks. It struck her neck and she promptly collapsed.

Mikuo attempted to go to her, but half slipped and half fell over. Right onto the counter as he hit his head.

The recent suspension from school will only make the case more believable. A foolproof scenario. Well not completely, but if the police begin asking too many questions I shall have to make another trip down to Judge Marlon's office with a stack of bills in my hand.

Mere childsplay. I've done worse.

* * *

I head home and am elated to see Rin arrive in a limousine back from school. She sighs and mutters to herself as she enters the mansion.

I quietly follow her in and wait behind her for a little while. As usual, her perky senses detect me and she turns around.

"Look, Len. I'm not staying here. I came to-" She begins to speak, but stops dead when she sees me. Her pupils dilate to pinpoints and the color drains from her face.

I suppose I may have a couple blood stains all over my body.

"What happened?!" She shrieks, running over.

It's so nice to see my lover playing the part and being concerned with my whereabouts.

"Oh I just had a little rendezvous with some acquaintances. Nothing to worry about." I cheerily reply.

My mood has been elevated significantly, because I just cannot stop smiling. This happiness, this thrill, it comes only with bloodshed.

"But-but…" She stammers.

Walking closer, I pat my pet on the head and flash a wink.

"Now go and get ready, my lover. I shall be holding a ball tonight and you are the guest of honor. My servants will bring you a lovely dress and help you prepare." I cut in.

I am ecstatic. On a whim, I decided it was the perfect night for a dance with my beloved.


	8. Who Do You Love? Part II

At approximately 8:02pm, she comes down the staircase.

Dressed in a soft, orange backless dress she gracefully floats into the empty ballroom. Her baby-smooth skin and slender legs are exposed to an arousing degree. Mild make-up that brings out her oceanic eyes and succulent lips adorns her snow white face. Her hair is done rather simply, but shimmers under the light of the chandelier like the sun itself.

Her beauty is simply astonishing to say the least.

Rather cautiously, she walks to my side and watches me warily. She takes note of my orange tie, which corresponds perfectly to her dress. I can see her suck in air and turn a slight shade of pink in her cheeks. I smirk.

I can't say I'm surprised by her intrigue in me. In a crisp white dress shirt, dark vest, orange tie and black dress pants, the sharp accents of my lean body are embellished. My hair is nicely brushed and pulled back in a neat ponytail, framing my freshly cleaned and blood-free face.

"Where is everyone?" She inquires.

I procure a ruby red rose from my pocket and slip it in her hair.

"Everyone I invited are already here, and standing before me." I quip.

"O-Oh…" She breathes.

Bowing forward slightly like a true gentleman, I modestly extend a hand to her.

"May I have this dance?"

Hesitating barely a moment, she reaches out and takes my hand.

In one swift movement, I pull her to my chest and hold her waist with my free hand. She's surprised, my gently rests her hand on my shoulder.

Slow, classical music drifts through the air and we commence an elegant waltz. Taking my lead, we dance across the polished wooden floor.

"Where did you learn to dance like this?" She softly asks.

"My…sister taught me a while ago." I answer after a brief pause.

"You have a sister?" She probes.

I remain silent.

As the night goes on, the violin music and our light footsteps are all that can be heard throughout the house.

Her body melts perfectly into mine, as if she were built to nestle in my arms. I will never give her up, not to anyone. Especially Mikuo.

Speaking of, those twins are probably in the hospital at this moment. Or maybe rehab. Or intense psychological counseling. Who knows? As long as they are away from us.

An hour passes by without notice, then two. But as the clock ticks to 11, she tires and gradually breaks off.

As the night draws to a close, I pull her close one last time.

"Who is it that you love?" I cryptically whisper in her ear.

She uncomfortably stutters and glances in a multitude of directions.

"Me, right?" I question.

Without waiting for an answer, I stroke her cheek and retreat from the ballroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of her fingering the flower in her hair and wildly blushing. I smile.

* * *

"_They cannot scare me with their empty spaces  
Between stars—on stars where no human race is.  
I have it in me so much nearer home  
To scare myself with my own desert places." _

Robert Frost. I particularly enjoy this poem, so much…empathy. Books nowadays are nothing but hormone-driven, shallow pieces of trash. I personally want to slaughter whoever wrote that sparkly vampire garbage.

But this girl, she is unbelievably imprudent in her tastes. The crazy electro-pop music I found in her phone, filthy teenage romance novels in her bag, pop culture referencing clothes, and those idiotic television programs. You'd think she would adapt to her new environment better.

Then it crosses my mind that perhaps I ought to try some of the things she likes. Find some common ground. Make sure there aren't any people she thinks about other than me.

I stroll through the house looking for her, and catch her slipping out of the back door.

"Where are you going?" I demand.

She stiffens at my voice. "I'm going to visit Miku."

Annoyance and horror flickers through me.

"That's not a good idea." I warn.

A shadow of suspicion falls on her face. "Why?"

"There's no need. You have me. You don't need anyone else." I respond.

"She's my friend, Len. You can't just coop me up in your house." She argues, frustration seeping into her tone.

"On the contrary." I say.

With a wave of my hand, guards block every exit from the house in a heartbeat. She splutters and protests as I lead her back inside.

Flushed with anger, she scrunches up her face in the most adorable way possible.

"Len!" She whines.

Chuckling at her simplicity, I pat her on the head.

She trudges off to the parlor, most likely to watch more of her idiotic television shows. But this time, I follow her.

I plop down on the couch right next to her, and gingerly turn to look at the screen. She scoots an inch away from me and turns on a fantasy romance show.

It's about a pair of vampire brothers fighting over a girl. Constant, irresponsible sex and drinking all over the place. Plots holes and people brooding around. What is this crap that's filling up her innocent mind?

She watches with far more attention than she pays in class, as if she is analyzing a complex algorithm. Her eyes are practically glued to the screen.

But if it's vampires she likes, then I shall have to indulge her a bit.

My eyes drift to her pale neck, and the veins pulsating beneath the thin skin. I lick my teeth, as though I were one of those creatures myself.

Grabbing her shoulders, I look down into her eyes. She gasps and reels back in fear. My predatory instincts burn up with desire and I flash her a crooked smile.

I start small, planting soft kisses along the sharp edge of her collarbone. Then I start sucking and nipping at the soft skin.

She tenses and squirms in my grasp.

"L-Len. You promised…not to do this." She protests.

"I'm not physically harming you. It's not considered rape if both people want it, given that we're both minors." I murmur. "Tell me you want it."

"N-No…" She chokes out, but with enough uncertainty in her voice that I don't stop.

"What you say is irrelevant. I can see your desire in those tomato cheeks." I half-joke.

She quickly clasps her hands over her cheeks, looking almost embarrassed.

"Let me go! I just want to see Mikuo-" She suddenly stops and corrects herself. "I-I mean Miku."

My brow furrows in annoyance. Just how long will this girl keep me waiting? And why is she running to that cocky, blue-haired brat?

"Never mention his name around me. I'll get jealous." I snap.

She quickly quiets and pulls away from me, staring at the carpet. Her soft hair falls forward, partially covering her still bright red face.

I smirk.

"I'll be in the sunroom. Come and see me once you stop blushing." I remark, and promptly leave.

* * *

Pawn to D6.

Bishop to G3.

Knight to H5.

I pick up the white knight and move it across the chessboard. It advances toward the black king. Too bad it has too many pawns lined up to protect itself.

As I ponder my next move, a ray of light flashes into my eye and blinds me. Those block-headed servants.

I go over to the giant French windows and harshly yank the thick curtains over them. Darkness consumes the room and I light a few lamps to see.

She comes into the room after about an hour, as I am finishing up my chess game. She glances around the room, pausing at the sight of the grand piano.

"You play piano?" She asks.

I nod.

"That is so cliché. Of course you would." She mutters.

I quirk up my brow and saunter over to her.

"That's right, clichéd. I'm rich…mysterious…cold…possessive…powerful…musically talented…" I lean in close and say "…and unbearably good-looking."

She turns pink and swiftly walks around me. "Don't get a big head." She says under her breath.

I chuckle and she turns even pinker realizing that I heard her.

"Want to hear me play?" I inquire.

She lets down her guard for just a second and childishly nods.

I sit down on the cushioned bench and rest my fingers onto the smooth keys. Immediately, a melody comes to mind and I begin to play.

Within a couple of seconds, she starts to giggle. I curiously look up at her and she slaps her hand over her mouth, containing it.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Sorry…It's just…well…you're horrible." She cautiously lets out.

I balk. Horrible? Well I admit I don't practice nearly as much as I should, but horrible? How rude and saucy of her. I suppose I'm finding more layers to her personality.

"Look, the song is a lot easier than most people think. I'll show you." She shyly offers, and sits down beside me.

Her slender fingers gracefully dance across the keys and pluck out a tune far more beautiful than I had imagined. It sounds like…something familiar.

"So that's how you play it? I've spent an eternity trying to think of what the notes are." I confess.

"Think of? Just get the sheet music. This song is so popular." She says.

"Is it? I don't use electronics much…or go out." I admit.

She looks as though she wants to say something, but her line of sight shifts.

"There are a lot of instruments here. Do you play them all?" She asks, impressed.

"Well, technically. But not as perfectly as your romantic fantasy novels describe."

She gasps. "Did you…go through my stuff?" She exclaims, more self-conscious than surprised.

"There is only one that I can accurately say I've mastered. And yes, I did. Nice panties, by the way." I say.

She squeaks in embarrassment and playfully punches my shoulder. The light touch shocks me, but I lightly smile and shake away the odd feelings growing inside of me.

Without waiting, I go to the back of the room and take out my treasured bass guitar. The instrument molds perfectly to my touch and already, I hold it as if I were to play it.

"A bass? Seriously? That is so not your style." She exclaims in astonishment.

"And what is my style?" I ask, amused.

"I don't know, violin or piano or something else classical and elegant. Or...maybe even harpsichord? Cello?" She stammers.

"Do you think this is a 19th century vampire romance novel? I'm not holed up in another century, nor am I some childhood prodigy. I like the bass." I scoff.

Apparently this is some sort of revelation, because she blankly stares in disbelief.

I calmly strum a more modernized, fast-paced tune and she watches in silence. After a while, she snaps out of her daze.

"You know, you're actually pretty cool-looking when you play that." She muses.

My eyes widen and I suck in a breath of air, but continue playing. For that one moment, the two of us look almost like a normal couple.


	9. Holiday Bonus Chapter

A/N: Happy holidays! An extra-long chapter, my gift to you all this Christmas.

* * *

**Christmas Special**

"Len, Len, wake up! Wake up!" A petite girl with long blonde hair whispered as she hopped onto the bed.

She shook the child sleeping in it, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"What?" The child croaked in his sleepiness.

"It's exactly midnight! Let's go downstairs." She urged.

"Really?!" The child exclaimed. He sat up at once and followed the girl out of his room.

Giggling and shushing each other, they tip-toed across the wide hall way and bounded down the stairs. The warm fragrance of nutmeg and freshly baked cookies welcomed them into the heavily decorated living room, complete with a towering pine tree covered top to bottom in ornaments. New, unopened presents sat at the base of the tree, practically begging to be opened.

"Shouldn't we wait for mommy?" The child worriedly asked.

"Don't worry, she's probably already up." The girl reassured.

"Which one do you wanna open?" The child asked.

"Hmm…maybe the big one. Or the weirdly-shaped one, I wonder what that is." She mused.

Right before their small feet reached the last step, a crash snapped them from their dream-like spree. Sensing trouble, the girl quickly dashed back up the stairs, pulling the child with her against the wall.

"Not today, please. The kids will be up any minute!" A woman's voice rang out sharply against the almost stuffy room.

"You think I wouldn't notice the pills you slipped into my food?!" A rough voice bellowed.

Muffled sounds and screams erupted from the dining room and another loud crash followed. But what was most frightening was the unearthly silence that came after.

The child could feel his sister tensing next to him. She suddenly pulled him up and faced him with wavering eyes.

"Run to your room, now." She ordered.

"Aren't you gonna come?" The child asked.

"Later. Just go, now!" The girl shrieked. Frightened, the child turned on his heel and dashed off into the bedroom.

Feeling uncomfortable, the child pressed his ear to the door and tried to make out any noises. It was quiet for a moment, until a high-pitched squeal pierced his ears.

The scream was like a mouse, but filled with pain.

The child heard loud footsteps coming near his room and nearly cried in terror. The footsteps stopped for just a moment outside his door, then continued on. After a few seconds, a door slammed.

Relieved that the man was gone, the child crept out and went back down to the living room. To his horror, the girl was sprawled at the bottom of the steps. She was unconscious, and blood trickled from her small mouth.

"Are you okay?!" The child ran to her, sobbing and hugging the body.

Coughing, the girl slowly opened her eyes and gave a weak smile. "I'm okay. Go back to your room."

Not listening, the child rambled on "Where's mommy? What did he do to you? What happened? Are…are we gonna open our presents?" The child feebly choked.

The girl sat up, wincing. She patted the child on his head and gave him a gentle hug.

"Sorry, Len. Christmas is over a little early this year."

* * *

An annoying, overly-cheerful song weaseled its way into the radio like a cockroach emerging from a crack in the wall and I groaned. Was it December already?

I hate this time of year. I think I bought this mansion just to be away from those nothing-better-to-do carolers and those bell-ringing Salvation Army people groveling for money. Ridiculous peasants ruining on otherwise, perfectly good month.

The house is dark, cold, and bears no trace of the holidays whatsoever. It rivals the home of Ebenezer Scrooge in terms of chilliness.

Some of the servants attempted to decorate the house and be cheery a couple of years ago. After what I did to them, that certainly won't be happening again anytime soon.

_Ding Dong!_

The doorbell rings for the first time in years. Who on earth could possibly be coming to my isolated mansion?

Curious, I stride out of the study and downstairs. To my surprise, she has already beaten me there.

She smiles and greets the delivery man, signing a piece of paper. That smile…I haven't seen it in a while. Why did she have to smile at another man? Those lips belong me alone.

Before I can ponder over which weapon to stab the man with, she skips away with a large box in her hands, happiness painting her face. What did she order? And what was she thinking?

"Rin!" I shout.

She freezes and nervously looks up at me. "What is it?"

"Don't you dare order things online anymore; it gives away my address to people." I snap.

"Well what was I supposed to do? You practically put the house on lock-down so I can't leave." She retorts.

Suddenly a thought pops into my head and I glide across the room to meet her. "How did you even order? There's no signal or Wi-Fi here."

She pales and squirms, clearly thinking of what to say. After a moment's hesitation, she confesses "I…might have installed a router…"

"What?! When?!" I demand. Now my house can be tracked from anywhere in the world.

"Um…like…a week ago? Sorry." She offers.

I loudly exhale and run my fingers through my hair. I'll have to get rid of it. "Where is it?"

"My room." She peeps in a small voice.

I follow her back up the stairs and all the way across the house, where her room lies. She grudgingly pushes open the door and lets me in. The small black router sits in the corner of the room amid a tangle of wires.

Exasperated by her reliance on electronics, I walk over and begin dismantling it. She watches with disappointment and dismay on her face, but is too scared to resist. Instead, she opens up the box and begins pulling out decoration after decoration.

By the time I manage to pull out all the wires and toss the object out of the window, she's transformed the plain room into a catastrophic wonderland. Garlands, candy canes, snowflakes, snowmen, and stockings smother the room with unnatural amounts of glitter.

It looks as though Christmas itself had come and violently vomited all over the place, then thrown a miniature tornado into it for good measure.

She appears pleased with herself and beams. The childish glee written over her features are rather cute, but my tradition of ignoring the holidays has sadly come to an end.

"It looks so much more fun and festive now, huh?" She exults.

I roll my eyes and mutter "I hate Christmas." as I exit. She glances at me with confusion.

As I walk back to my room, I can't help but notice the deep contrast between my mansion and her newly decorated room. Would she be willing to spend the holidays in this dark and gloomy place?

I spend the entire night making preparations.

* * *

_December 25, 2014_

Scarcely after the sun had risen, her shrieks of delight consumed the house and pierced my eardrums. I sighed and slowly got out of bed, pulling away the sheets and standing up to stretch.

My bare skin is greeted by cold air, as usual, but with a tinge of warmth seeping in from another room. I run my fingers through my messy hair and wince at the commotion downstairs. Why did she have to wake up so early? I'm exhausted.

She barges into my room in minutes, panting and suppressing a grin rather poorly.

"Did you do this?" She gasps.

"I've done many things. If you're referring to the catastrophe in the living room, then I suppose so." I sardonically respond.

Her smile breaks free from her restraint and she giddily rushes forward as though she wants to hug me. Her tracks abruptly stop upon seeing my exposed chest and she hastily turns around.

The corner of my lip quirks up and I walk right behind her, pulling her into an involuntary back hug.

"Like what you see?" I tease.

She clears her throat and skids forward a couple of steps, away from me. "Anyways, thank you."

I pull on a loose sweater hanging on the back of my chair and walk past her. "Well don't just stand there."

We head out of my bedroom and down to the living room, where my surprise awaits. Me, strolling; her, practically skipping.

A lofty, twelve foot tree sits in the middle of the room piled high with ornaments and tinsel. A wide array of presents ranging from tiny to large fill the space under and surrounding it. The fireplace crackles and burns with warm, flickering flames. Everything else remains untouched and barren.

She stares at the immense tree in awe, her eyes practically sparkling with wonder. After ingesting the spectacle, she goes around and looks at every ornament in detail.

"All the presents are for you. If there are any you don't particularly like, just throw them out." I offhandedly mention.

"Really?" She lights up even more, kneeling down to examine the assortment of colorful gift boxes.

One by one, crystalline tears trickle down her porcelain cheeks. Not even bothering to wipe them, she looks at me and smiles. Does this girl cry at everything?

"What?" I ask.

"Sorry…it's just that every year Rinto-nii and I would try to get the biggest tree we could find. I know, it's cheesy. But it still makes me nostalgic now that he's…not here." She murmurs.

Cheesy? I scoff. "My sister and I used to get up at midnight and open one present each."

She tilts her head to the side. "Wow…that's surprisingly normal."

Then something changes and she glances at the ground in guilt. "But I didn't get anything for you."

I saunter over and crouch down in front of her, placing my hands on her shoulders. My tongue darts out and I lap up a salty tear.

"Oh please, you know very well what I want." I purr.

Not reeling back or pushing me off of her, she gapes for a brief moment then sweetly smiles. Turning her head to the side, she gently presses her lips against my cheek.

Leaving them there for just a brief moment, she brushes the ends of my bangs with her fingers and blushes. "Thank you, Len."

The spot on my cheek burns. I feel my heartbeat quickening and lick my lips in desire. My hands tighten on her shoulder of their own accord and I stare into her eyes.

The jubilance and playfulness dancing in them ignite an entirely new feeling inside me. "Let's go play in the snow." I blurt out, and mentally stab myself.

She is pleasantly surprised and readily agrees, excitedly scrambling away to get her coat. I just need to cool off.

* * *

Bundled up in heavy jackets, scarves, and gloves, we exit through the back door. A thick layer of pure white snow covers the withered lawn, completely transforming its exterior.

She giggles in delight and throws herself onto it, ridiculously sweeping her limbs up and down.

"What are you doing?" I question.

"Making a snow angel." She cheerfully replies. "Come on, try it!"

"No."

The cold air stings my uncovered face and I grimace. Yet the place where her lips grazed my cheek continues to scorch even in the frigidity. How interesting.

Sunlight bounces off the pristine whiteness and blinds my eyes. Averting my gaze, I kneel down and pick up some snow in my palm. The dense material easily crumbles in my hands.

I pull off my gloves and swirl my finger in the powdery slush, making rough lines and obscure shapes. The freezing wetness numbs my skin and I involuntarily shiver.

A jagged chunk of ice pierces the tip of my finger, slicing it open. Drop of ruby red blood stain the surface of the snow, seeping into it. Ignoring the pain, I squeeze the cut and watch more blood dribble out and cascade into the ground.

"Hey Len, do you have any carrots?" She shouts out, breaking my train of thought.

I look up and see a haphazardly made snowman nearly as tall as she is. Two sticks jut out from its side while stones produce a smiling face on the top lump. She has taken off her own pink scarf to adorn its "neck".

"What would you need a carrot for?" I say.

As she is about to respond, I take out a small pocketknife from my coat pocket and ram it into the snowman's head. The blade further cuts my injured hand and blood streams from where I touched it.

She gasps and pouts. "Hey! It doesn't look right." Then she notices the blood trickling down the snow. "Blood? Are you okay, Len?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She takes a step forward to examine me, then halts while a mischievous grin manifests on her face. Stealthily, she scoops up some snow and pats it into a ball. Already, I can see where this is going.

"Don't throw that at me." I command.

"I'm not going to throw it." She poorly lies.

I walk towards her. "Do I look like the type of person who would enjoy a snowball fight?"

She raises the arm holding the snowball ever so slightly. "More like the type of person who would bury sharp rocks in one."

I dart forward and grab both her wrists, locking the both of us in place. "Been there, done that."

She gulps and tries to back out of my grasp. "And who was the unlucky victim?"

I tighten my hold and lean closer. "Anyone who poses a threat to me. Or you."

She opens her mouth a bit, but doesn't say anything. Our eyes fixate on each other and I scan her alluring face. Bit by bit, I inch closer.

Our lips are barely a centimeter apart as I feel heat rise between us. The desire I had previously suppressed rises again. Her breathing accelerates and her warm breath tickles my chin.

I lean in.

A tree rustles and a mass of snow hurtles towards me, knocking us to the ground.

Still clutching her wrists, I lay sprawled on top of her small body. Her eyes are tightly shut while her hands are scrunched up into little fists. Her heart thuds loudly against my chest, even through the many layers of fabric.

I feel something warm pushing against my lips and glance down to see her pink lips against mine. They're soft, and give off a sweet scent. Lip gloss?

Her eyes snap open and she flushes red. She struggles, but I hold her in place with my superior position.

Tentatively, I part my lips and brush my tongue against hers, asking for entry. She keeps her lips closed and turns to the side, denying me access.

Shrugging, I shift my position so that I loosely straddle her instead of lying on top of her.

"Aren't you going to resist?" I probe.

She doesn't answer, but averts her gaze. I guess she finally realized that her efforts would be futile.

I release her wrists and move my hands to her back, pulling her up into a sitting position. Her hands instinctively move to the ground, supporting her upper body. My eyes trail over her neck, bare and as pale as the snow around us.

Something white floats into my line of sight.

Snow drifts from the sky, falling and melting onto both the surroundings and us. The air becomes thick with flurries of snow and she gazes in wonder. Everything becomes coated with a thin layer of white powder, including us.

A large, pristine snowflake lands on her neck and melts upon contact. She shivers from the cold ever so slightly, but noticeably.

I slide my hands away from her back and strip off my dark blue scarf. She turns to me just as I drape it around her shoulders, shielding her skin from the cold. Flustered, she mumbles out a thanks and draws the cloth around herself.

She notices my cut hand and sharply inhales. "Len, your hand."

"It's fine." I say.

"No it's not." She sit up and grasps my hand in hers, scrutinizing the cuts across my palm and finger. "We should get this cleaned up."

She immediately scrambles to her feet and yanks me up with her, dragging us both back inside.

* * *

I watch her as she dabs a cotton ball drenched in rubbing alcohol at my wounds, disregarding the stinging pain. She bit her lower lip in concentration while she carefully bandages them. The evident concern standing out against her features is foreign to me.

"There. All done." She states while sighing.

I reach my freshly bandaged hand out and tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "You have my deepest gratitude."

She rolls her eyes. "Aren't you the one who said this isn't some 19th century romance novel?"

"I see you've taken the time to remember my words." I joke.

She stutters and blushes, wringing her fingers together.

Chuckling, I pinch her cheek and head back to my library.

A small tug at my sleeve pulls me back and I glance back to see her holding my sweater, nervously pulling me back.

"What is it?" I inquire with a half-smile.

"U-Um…since it's the holidays, do…do you wanna have a…meal with me?" She peeps out.

"It would be my pleasure." I respond. She cutely cracks a small smile.

I gaze in amusement as she runs around the kitchen, tossing things into the oven and stirring bubbling pots of…stew? Broth? Something.

"It was under my assumption that my chefs would be cooking." I say.

"Well…I felt bad that I didn't get you anything for Christmas so I figured I could at least make us food." She stammers.

I raise an eyebrow. "How domestic of you. You would make a wonderful wife."

At this, she turns and frowns at me. "I'm a feminist. Women should not be subordinated into cooking and cleaning."

"Of course not." I rise from my seat and go over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "Women are great for many things."

"T-The ham is burning!" She exclaims, and breaks free from my clutch.

I laugh while she continues her cooking frenzy, only a bit pinker than before.

After about half an hour, she proudly emerges with an array of holiday dishes. Turkey, casserole, dinner rolls, stuffing, beans, and pumpkin pie.

"Are you sure you aren't getting this mixed up with Thanksgiving?" I ask.

"S-Shut up! This was all I could think of." She mumbles.

She expertly arranges the dishes and even lights a few candles to set the scene. Though I prefer using candles for something much different.

The food is surprisingly good, well-seasoned and scrumptious. Its quality even rivals some of my best chefs.

Her table manners are impeccable as she takes small, delicate bites while expertly handling her utensils. Combined with her nice dress, one would mistake her for a princess straight out of a storybook.

"Enjoying the meal, your highness?" I tease.

She tenses and turns pink in embarrassment. "H-How did you know?"

Now my curiosity is peaked. "Know what?"

"N-Nevermind." She awkwardly looks down and continues eating.

"Tell me." I order.

She cringes and sighs. "Um…don't laugh…but when I was little, my dream was to become a princess when I grew up. And maybe…I never really let go of that dream."

So her wish is to be royalty? Amusing, for her age.

The meal continues in silence, and the night soon begins to fall upon us. We must have spent longer than I thought in the snow.

"Hey Len…" She begins. "Will you sing me a Christmas carol?"

I balk at the idea. Carol? I absolutely hate Christmas songs. They're all overly cheery and festive, to the point of sounding fake.

But she stares at me with wide, puppy dog eyes and pouts just a bit. My hands clench into fists. Where did she learn that dangerous expression?

Sighing, I think of a slightly less revolting song and open my mouth to sing.

_Silent night, Holy night  
All is calm, all is bright  
Round yon virgin, mother and child  
Holy infant, tender and mild  
Sleep in heavenly peace,  
Sleep in heavenly peace._

_Silent night, Holy night  
Son of God, love's pure light  
Radiant beams from thy holy face  
With the dawn of redeeming grace,  
Jesus, Lord at thy birth  
Jesus, Lord at thy birth._

_Silent night, Holy night  
Shepherds quake, at the sight  
Glories stream from heaven above  
Heavenly, hosts sing Hallelujah.  
Christ the Savior is born,  
Christ the Savior is born._

My eyes involuntarily grow wet with tears and I quickly wipe them away, hoping she didn't notice. As I finish, I look over at her.

She is dozing off with her head resting on her hand, elbow propped on the table. A faint smile graces her lips as she drifts into a deep sleep. All that food must have put her to sleep.

Suppressing a laugh, I gather her into my arms and carry her into my room. I lay her onto the bed and pull the sheets over her, careful not to wake her. She stirs and shifts onto her side, while her smile widens despite a tear slipping out from the corner of her eye.

I get into bed next to her and lie on my back. She looks so peaceful, so angelic in her sleep. Perhaps she was sent down by God to be my salvation in this world.

"Merry Christmas, Rin." I murmur.


	10. Mutual Lust

As enjoyable as they were, my days spent solely with her are coming to a close. The wintery days of festivities pass by like a fleeting dream, and before long, I am obliged to return to that disgusting school where swarms of coarse students surround us.

My alarm clock beeps and I groan. After two weeks of complete vacation, my body cries in agony at the harsh awakening.

Why did I even transfer to that hellhole?

That's right. I need to keep an eye on her every second of every day. I've disposed of those blue-haired brats, but others could stand in my way. And anyone who gets in my way must be trampled down like the weeds they are.

Brimming with resolve, I thrust my tired body out of bed. A neat pile of folded clothes sit by my closet door, freshly washed and ironed by my trusty servants.

I pull a white button-up shirt over my chest and slid my legs into a pair of dark pants. It's still rather cold out, so I slip on my navy blue blazer.

The problem is the red tie. I'm perfectly capable of tying it, but it acts as a noose. Strangling me, tightly binding my neck as though its sole purpose in life is to choke me. I always keep it nice and loose, dangling just above my partially buttoned shirt.

My messy blond hair drifts down to my shoulder in length. I run my fingers through it and tie it up in a small ponytail, leaving it composed yet slightly sloppy.

"Len!" She shrieks, slamming open the door.

Her face is livid with horror and rage, her hands balled into tiny little fists planted on her hips. I should take a picture.

"Yes?" I respond.

"I just got a call from Miku. Did you go to their house and stab them?! Then try to cover it up with some elaborate ruse?!" She accuses.

I raise an eyebrow. Maybe I should have sent them somewhere where they can't keep in contact with her, like an asylum.

"Perhaps." I say.

"You-You…I can't…I can't even…How could you?! They were put in juvie after being released from the hospital! Miku was in intensive care! I can't believe you would go that far! And here I thought you were…" She trails off, spluttering to herself.

Yet something strikes me as odd. Not a single tear drops from her eyes; strange given her nature and the situation. As she continues shouting out incoherent sentences, I hear the word "you" many more times than either of the twins' names.

Smirking, I walk over to her and graze the skin of her upper arm with my fingers.

"It's not what I did that upsets you; it's the fact that I was capable of it." I state.

Her brows furrow in confusion. "Huh?"

"You felt yourself growing closer to me and you didn't want to believe that I was a complete monster. You wanted to think there was hope for me…for us. That's why you're like this." I speculate.

It appears my conjecture was accurate, as her eyes widen and she opens her mouth.

"I-I…well…maybe…b-but that doesn't mean th-" She stammers.

I cut her off by firmly planting my lips onto hers. Something wet falls onto my cheek and I partially open my eyes to see tears cascading from hers. Finally. I love to see her cry, especially because of me.

She remains in a stupor as I pull away and move into her ear. "You thought wrong… on one of them." I whisper.

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimes and I am reminded of the time. Releasing her from my grasp, I head outside.

Instantly, she swerves around. "Stop!"

I freeze. The sharp sound pierces my ears and I turn my head just slight enough to peek at her from the corner of my eye.

"You're always doing this!" She yells.

"Doing what?"

A tinge of rouge blooms on her cheekbones and she glares, flustered. "Always, like, kissing me and stuff then just walking off. Don't do that!"

Is that so? A small smile works its way onto my lips. I whirl around and yank her into a rough back hug.

"Alright. In that case, I'll never leave your side again." I murmur.

She's at a loss for words, so it seems. Her body softens against mine and warmth from the blood pulsing through her veins seeps into my skin. I can practically feel her heart pounding. Pounding with…excitement? Arousal? Happiness?

It should be with fear.

I plan on keeping that promise. Forever. I will always be with her, dead or alive.

My hand rests on her waist, enveloping her into me. Slowly it makes its way up to her stomach…then ribcage…then circles around something soft and pleasurable. A soft squeak comes from her mouth. Her small hand tugs at my sleeve, pulling me away.

Ignoring her reluctance, I transition into a slight massage. This time a moan erupts from her throat, though she quickly pushes it down. My other hand forcibly yanks up her skirt to stroke her thigh.

"I've done some bad things to your 'friends'. Just this once, I will let you punish me." I offer.

As much as I enjoy inflicting pain on others, I do not mind a little pain of my own…if it comes from her, that is.

"L-Len…" This time she has trouble holding back a gasp.

"Take the chance, I might not be so generous next time." I urge.

Her head whips up to face mine and I see lust spreading over her moist eyes. Suddenly, her hand darts forward and grabs my tie.

I loosen my grip on her, allowing her to use the shackle around my neck to pull me onto her. Our mouths battle, tongues wrestling, teeth knocking against each other. Her body pushes hard onto mine until I can feel nearly every part of her pressed into my clothes. But not every part.

Skillfully, I cup her thighs with my palms and lift them up around my hips. She tightly wraps her legs around me and grabs my face with her hands. I feel wetness coming from areas other than our mouths and instinctively head for the bed.

I throw us down onto the mattress, practically crawling on top of her. But within seconds, she flips our position and shoves me down. Her fingers nimbly undo the buttons on my shirt and I hear her suck in a sharp breath of air as she ogles at my chest, tracing it with her index finger.

Before long, her lips come crashing down against my flesh as she bites and sucks the elastic skin. I wince at the stings. This side of her… I suppose I like it. But situations like this ought to remain a rarity. The delicate balance of our seme/uke relationship can only be tipped once every so often.

I reach out and stick my hand underneath her skirt, wanting to strip away the flimsy fabric separating me from her haven. Her hands unconsciously drift to the top button of my pants while she inhales in desire. But she doesn't open it.

A tension-filled silence follows.

Our ragged breathing matches one another as we catch our breath. Sweat trickles down my face and onto my neck. Her mouth is still lubricated with a coat of saliva, either hers or mine. Maybe both mixed together. My tie hangs loosely like a red flag signaling my exposed chest, which glistens with perspiration and new bruises. I pant, waiting for her to continue.

Impatient, I thrust forward and clutch her shoulders, leaning in. To my annoyance, she pushes me away and slides off of my body and to the edge of the bed. She closes her legs and looks away while clenching and unclenching her skirt.

"What?" I groan. Dissatisfaction courses through me and a heavy flood threatens to leak out of my awakened manhood. Why must she always keep me waiting?

"This...this isn't right." She barely whispers.

Frustration takes place. "Yes it is. It was perfectly right. Until now."

She is suddenly conscious of our situation and shrivels back against the bedframe. "No…I shouldn't be doing this, not with you, not right now. I'm sorry. My hormones are just out of control. But…I'm far too young and I can't lose it to you."

"Why? We're going to eventually. I've held back all this time for you. Perhaps you're starting to think too little of me." I start to get agitated, sitting up and pushing hair out of my sweaty face.

"N-No! Just…not now. I'm not ready. Besides, doing it with you…" She trails off.

"What? What's wrong with that?" Rage begins to build inside me.

"Y-You're a crazy person! Just a very attractive crazy person who I, a teenage girl, have been locked inside of a house with for months. That's all. It's a mixture of hormones and Stockholm and I'm not losing it to that!" She shrieks.

I lunge forward, knocking her to the floor and pinning her down. This ridiculous push and pull game has gone on long enough. Who does she think she's talking to? It looks as though it's time to remind her who the master is.

"That's right, I'm a crazy person. And taunting a crazy person, like waving a slice of bacon in front of a wolf's nose, is a dangerous thing. So I don't think I can stop at this. No, I'm going to need more now that you've started this." I growl.

"I'm sorry…please don't." She whimpers.

Weeks. Months. I waited. I shoved down my desires for her and now I'm so close to what I want. How dare she deny me it? Always refusing me and keeping me on edge. Sneaky little bitch. Why don't I make it so that she can't anymore?

I reach out and clasp the back of her neck, squeezing the tendons and bones. She cringes and half raises a hand to protect herself while producing a faint sob. I'll make her weep. I'll make her scream and bawl with fear and pain.

"There is a nerve right here." I say. "If I severe it, you will be paralyzed from neck down."

Her breathing accelerates and she is now visibly shaking. Such a glorious sight.

"I will be able to do whatever I want with you and you will be able to do nothing, except shriek and snivel."

She tightly shuts her eyes and tears flow fast down her cheeks. I dart out my finger and catch one, bringing it to my lips and licking the salty fluid in pleasure. It seems as though I am forgetting something.

I release my clutch, allowing her to drop onto the floor. As I walk past her, I bend down for a second to yank out a few strands of her hair. The silky flaxen fibers rest peacefully in my palm as I exit the door and step into my waiting limousine. Just a little something to occupy myself with at school.


	11. Immigration

A/N: I'm going to change the rating to M. I've been thinking of doing so for a while now, but a suggestion in the comments gave me the final push to do so.

* * *

"Today we have a new foreign exchange student from England. Please introduce yourself to the class." The teacher announces.

A skinny boy, with light yellow hair and a bandage over his left eye, faintly smiles and bows. He's short and looks a bit young for high school.

"Hello, everyone! My name is Oliver. Due to differences in our education system, I'm actually one year younger than all of you. I hope we can all get along well." He chirps in a high, smooth voice with a very slight accent.

"Kyaa! He's so cute!" A random girl squeals. The other idiotic females join in as well, immediately surrounding the boy with blushes and giggles. One, however, remains seated with glassy eyes staring at the ground. My fingers tighten around the glossy strands of her soft hair.

The midget boy has the audacity to sit right in front of her. He goes even further and turns around to face her. She looks up in surprise and blankly stares at him in response, her eyes drifting towards the bandage but quickly looking away.

"It's nice to meet you. What's your name?" He asks.

She fidgets. "…Kagamine Rin."

"Kagamine-san…" He begins. "Actually can I call you Rin-nee? Kagamine is quite a mouthful and my Japanese isn't that good." What bullshit. His linguistic skills are just fine. Just what does that pipsqueak think he's doing?!

"U-Um…Alright, Oliver…kun." She starts to smile, but glances my way and stops. He follows her gaze and looks at me for a few seconds before turning back to her.

"Rin-nee, will you be my friend?" He says. I sense my fingers spasm as he gazes at her with big, watery puppy dog eyes. Or should I say, eye. She happily nods in agreement and I feel a sharp flame erupt from my chest.

My nails dig into my palms so hard that a few drops of blood slide out and splash onto the white floor. I wonder if ten thousand is enough to make to school expel him. Perhaps another couple thousand to keep the legal system from retaliation when I burn down his house.

The piece of vermin sticks to my obedient doll like a piece of shrapnel deeply embedded into flesh. Carrying her books, constantly asking for help, and even daring to act cute. I watch them from secluded spot behind the lockers. My eyes fixate on them. Certain parts of my body won't stop twitching.

During lunch, her idiotic friends welcome him with airy smiles and equally airy brains. They chat about the most shallow, worthless things known to the modern world. Why must she insist on spending time with trash? I could take her to unimaginable places. They're all in my way. They deserve to be trampled down like the pesky weeds they are.

My hand squeezes the cheap carton of milk from the cafeteria so hard that it nearly bursts with pressure. White, creamy liquid squirts out of the opening and dribbles down my fingers. Slowly bringing it to my mouth, I carefully lick each finger clean. If only it was another liquid.

I glance at her flaxen hair swaying along with her giggling head from behind. I want to stroke it so bad, to claw my fingers through it and bury my face in it, to slowly rip out each and every strand for myself. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the strands saved from this morning. I lift them and deeply inhale its sweet, fruity scent.

Like an overly ripened fruit, my desire for her overflows and threatens to leak out of the thin skin barely containing it. How desperately I want to bite into the sinful fruit with her and allow its alluring juices to draw us in. Vivid fantasies overrun my imagination and I indulge in the alternate ending to what we started.

Then the little British brat leans in and whispers something in her ear. She laughs. I fume. This must not go on. I shall put an end to this connection between them once and for all. That bandage over his eye, I wonder what it covers. Perhaps I will tear it off, and then gouge out the other eye as well. Actually, I will sew his eyelids shut and slash an X over them. Forever brand those undeserving eyes and keep them from seeing her ever again.

When the bell rings, everyone stands up to get to class. I wait for the dense group of unnecessary to leave, then listen in on his conversation with my doll.

"Aw…my next class isn't with you." The gnat whines.

"It was really nice getting to know you, Oliver-kun. Let's have lunch together again tomorrow." She replies. Just where is she getting the nerve to say that? I suppose I didn't make myself clear enough about my thoughts on her interactions with others. This spoiled girl, her punishment will come next.

"See you later, Rin-nee!" He spews in a falsetto tone suitable for a young child.

As he rounds the corner, I grab the collar of his uniform and forcibly throw him into an empty classroom. I lock the door behind us and pull out my pocketknife. It's time to get carving.

"W-What do you want?" He trembles.

I step forward with a deadly gaze. "Stay away from Rin."

"H-Huh?" He backs up and nearly trips over a desk. "Who are you?"

Is it not obvious? I dash towards him and slam him hard into the cabinets at the back of the room. The frail child nearly faints.

"Her love. Now I think I'm going to have to help you keep your grubby hands away from her." My arm raises, poised with the knife and ready to strike him.

"W-Wait! Don't do this!" He yelps.

Too late. I bring my hand down and attempt to slash his face open.

His hand whips up and grabs my wrist in an excruciatingly tight lock. Something flickers in his face and he twists it, drawing me closer. The pain in my lower arm hardly registers in my mind as I growl in rage. So the kid is stronger than he looks? I've taken on worse. Far worse.

"You really don't want to do this." He mutters.

I use my other hand to yank away the bandage. It rips away easily with the amount of force I put in and falls to the ground. A pink, rough scar is spread over the entire area as if the skin with melting away. Any skin that is left curls up in jagged edges, bordering the old wound. His eye is still visible, though dead and dysfunctional surrounded by leathery flesh.

A chilling sensation runs down my spine and I freeze. Something isn't quite right. There is something hauntingly familiar about this boy. The hateful sneer he sends my way triggers a memory buried deep under the trauma that engulfs my childhood. Who is he?

"Remember me? I don't really give a shit if you do." He snaps. His high-pitched, girly voice suddenly drops an octave, dripping with animosity. My fingers tighten around the hilt of my knife.

My mouth goes dry and my body tenses, ready to fight. Instinctively, my feet shift into a more defensive position. There is another switchblade in my chest pocket. I slowly inch my hand towards it, waiting for an opportunity.

He clasps my other wrist, blocking my beeline. Now holding both of my arms, he meets my eyes with his. The side of his lip curls up in revulsion and he eyes me like a chunk of moldy bread. What an arrogant piece of garbage. He should know the difference in strength between us.

"Just remember this." The juvenile drawls. "I will punish you for an eternity, you bastard."


	12. Blood

"O-kun! I'm coming over to play." The child sang.

His small feet lightly tread over the grass, still damp from the morning dew. A thick patch of forestry provided the only separation between the two large estates. The boy pushed his way through trees and bushes until he came upon the stone house only a fifteen minutes' walk from his own. He skipped up the steps and knocked on the back door, but there was no answer.

"O-kun?" He called.

Silence. Frowning slightly, the boy jogged around the area looking for his friend. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a little wooden shed sitting near the forest, carefully hidden behind some foliage. Curiosity got the best of him and the boy went over to examine it.

With a slight touch, the door creaked open on its rusty hinges. The child warily stepped in and reached for the light. As the room illuminated, his eyes opened in shock.

Pictures of his sister lined every wall and crevice of the room. There were photos of her playing in the trees, skipping back home, laughing, smiling, engaging in conversation, having fun, crying, and sleeping. The boy himself was in several of them. A small digital camera hung in the corner.

Shaking, the boy walked over and lifted the camera. Etched into the strap was the name of his best friend. Horror slowly spread across his face as realization struck him. Tottering back a few steps, the boy fell out of the shed and sprinted back to his house at full speed.

* * *

She avoids me everywhere with an awkward and flustered expression on her face. She's bad at it, too. I constantly catch her ducking behind walls or attempting to dissolve into the crowd. A game of cat and mouse would have interested me, if she wasn't hiding with a British insect.

He enjoys spending time with her very deliberately when he senses my presence. The vermin goes out of his way to touch her, help her, and get close to her. My chest tightens in rage as I watch them from afar.

This has gone on far too long. I spare them one last glance before heading back home to pick out some knives.

Blinding light envelopes the basement as I flick a switch. Numerous chains, weapons, and chairs bolted to the ground litter the area. On a particularly large wall, a wide array of knives hangs in the center. To its right, a collection of pistols and shotguns. To its left, an assortment of maces and clubs.

My hand closes around the hilt of a knife with a curved, jagged blade perfect for carving out body parts. There is no sheath, so I simply slip it into my shirt, not noticing as it cuts my skin ever so slightly as I walk. A bead of blood trickles down my chest and seeps into the top of my jeans. Soon, I would be spilling a lot more than a drop.

Luckily, the demon is walking back to my house hand in hand with her. I suppress my mixed emotions of excitement and anger and duck behind a pillar to welcome them.

"Thanks for walking me back, Oliver-kun!" She beams at him and releases his hand.

"Of course. Your safety is my biggest concern!" The twat replies.

He waits until she opens the door and enters the house before sighing and turning away. I silently follow him down the path and through the bushes until I reach an isolated spot in a small clearing.

He stops.

"Come out."

I grin. He was speaking to the wrong location.

I slip out from the shadows and stand behind him. He glances around and jumps a bit when he registers me. Faltering back, he quickly regains his composure and glares me down. I give a light chuckle at his idiocy.

"How close you seem to be with my beloved. I'm truly, truly envious." I say.

The corner of his lip twitches. "Good. I'm only getting started."

"Me too."

I yank the knife out from my clothes and slash at him, pushing him to the ground. I pin him in place and hold the blade so close to his neck that blood dribbles out and stains the silvery metal. His eye widens in fear and he gulps, only to have more blood spill out.

"Whatever crap you're trying to accomplish, stop now before I skin you alive." I spit out.

He breathes and responds, despite the steady flow of rouge streaming from the intersection between my knife and his skin. "Never. I will have my vengeance on you, no matter the cost."

"What a stupid child. Do you honestly think you can harm me? I could kill you now if I wanted." I snarl back.

His face stretches into a grotesque smile. "Oh but you won't. Why? Because she's still alive. And if you kill me, she's going to be tortured beyond insanity. I guarantee it. Go ahead and try. I dare you. I dare you! Kill me!"

A gold pendant gleams around his neck. Hanging from it is a locket with a music note intricately engraved into it. It can't be. He follows my glance and starts to laugh.

"Bring back any memories? She gave me this. Willingly, maybe not." He gloats.

I clench my jaw. "Where did you get that?"

"Need more proof?" He reaches into his jacket and flings an endless amount of photos into the air.

They swirl and land all over the place. Her face is in each one, scrunched in pain but alive. She's older than when I last saw her, her body matured and feminine. Covered in marks and crying, but very clearly alive.

_Alive._ My face pales and I fight back the tremors taking hold of my body. Alive? That's impossible. She's dead. I saw her. Cold and ashen on the ground with blood pooling around her. I saw her. The blond hair I once tried to braid tangled and matted with gore. He's lying. The bastard. He's lying to take advantage of me. I don't believe him. I don't believe him. I don't believe him. I..I…Who is he? How does he know? What is he?

My hand tightens despite my trembling limbs. He notices. A wave of panic washes over me and I can't control the tears slipping out of my sockets. No…no…stop. I don't want this. Please…stop. I hate this. His laughter escalates. Now he is gasping for air, shaking and snickering with glee.

"Kill me! Kill me! I'd like to see you try, you coward! You're a coward! Nothing but a pathetic coward hiding behind his fetishes!" He chokes out between pants.

The blood is everywhere. It mercilessly pours from his neck as he scrapes against the blade I shakily hold there. Blood from the cuts on my chest stain the white shirt I'm wearing. Blood. Her blood. Her blood fills my mind as I'm painfully struck by flashbacks.

I glace at the pictures. An odd pain erupts in my chest. She was supposed to be dead. A kitchen knife in her hand, a crumpled note in the other. Stab wounds painted her stomach. I screamed when I saw her. I wept uncontrollably for days. How could she do this? The blood wouldn't go away. It wouldn't go away no matter how much I scrubbed and washed. Every time I opened my eyes, the blood would be all over the place.

The only way to get rid of her blood was to replace it with someone else's. My list of victims grew.

Why? Why? Why is this happening? Why is this boy mocking me? Why am I so upset? Why is she alive? How? How is this happening? My breath comes out in uneven wheezes.

"I can't believe you're this shaken! You're such a weak little boy, Len. This will be easier than I thought. Why don't you come home with me? Let's play. The three of us. Let's play, Len!" He shrieks.

"Come on, Len! Let's play." She calls. Her small figure dashes through the trees, a boy with feathery hair and a foreign school uniform follows. I follow them as fast as I can on my short legs.

The girl turns and takes our hands, smiling as bright as the sun. The three of us skip along the grass as the sun shines on our heads. What game would we play today? Yesterday it was tag. Today, maybe hide and seek. Whatever it was, we would have fun.

Her strides quicken and I fall behind. "Wait up, onee-chan!"

She innocently giggles, blue eyes lighting up with childish happiness. The boy next to me watches her with fervent admiration in his eyes. He blushes and clutches her hand tighter. I frown slightly but flit back to her side.

I want to be with my sister forever.

No…NO! I yell and raise the knife. Make it stop. My arm muscles tense. Make him stop. I send the blade flying through the air. A small, white hand stops it before it can slice his neck in half.

Blood explodes from the hand and hits my face with sickening warmth. A deep cut lies across its palm, so deep I might have hit bone. The dark liquid continuously pours like an abyss opened in the flesh. The small hand trembles and falls to the ground.

I look over into her eyes, corrupted with intensifying pain. She makes a strangled cry of agony as her eyes fill with clear fluid. My knife clatters to the ground. He stares at her as well, with horror and confusion. She closes and opens her eyes, sucking in air.

"Stop it." She whimpers. I don't know which one of us she is talking to. Maybe me. Maybe him. Probably both.

He springs into action. "Are you okay?! Oh my goodness! Rin-nee! Rin-nee!"

With a swift rip, he tears off the hem of his shirt and tightly bounds it over her hand. He ties it like a tourniquet and dabs away some of the blood with his jacket.

He glowers at me and is about to jump on me, but she cuts him off. "Please leave us alone, Oliver-kun."

A troubled expression crosses his face, but he reluctantly stands and walks away. From the corner of my eye, I see him getting into a car while a butler fusses over him. They drive off, but this fight is clearly not over.

My body feels numb. I can't move. I can't stop shivering. I feel so cold. I feel so miserable. What did that child do to me? The chills are overpowering and I weakly cry out. She pulls me into her arms and warmth from her body flows into me.

I long for more of that warmth and bury my face into her shoulder. Without sound, she continues to stroke my back with her unharmed hand until I stop quaking. I'm so delirious on her heat that I don't even feel embarrassed by my feebleness. Please don't go. Can we stay like this for another year? Please.

She moves and I desperately grab to hold onto her. She returns my grasps and shifts me onto her back, supporting me while we stand. I lean on her the entire walk back to the house, savoring the warmth for as long as I can.

Everything is a blur as we enter the living room. A swirl of faces and lights overwhelm me and I collapse.


	13. Weakness

The next morning I wake up with a pounding in my head. A thin layer of sweat cloaks my body. When I raise my arm to push hair out of my eyes, gravity seems to have intensified and it falls back onto the sheets with a thud. Why is my body so heavy?

Someone has changed my clothes. I glance down and see a thin, silk pajama set stuck onto my thin body. What happened while I was unconscious? Yesterday's events weigh down on me and I grit my teeth with the little strength I have left. Oliver…That bastard. And my…A pain slices through my frontal lobe and my thoughts come to an abrupt halt.

A dim light creeps into the room as the door opens. Through my hazy vision, I see a small figure approach with something in its hands. She sits down beside me and flickers on a lamp. The brightness worsens my headache and I squeeze my eyes shut. Turn that damned thing off…

Some cool and wet drips onto my forehead and I crack open my eye to see her dabbing away sweat with a damp washcloth. The bit of coldness feels rejuvenating and I long for more. Just my forehead is not enough.

She watches me with concern, slightly biting down on her lower lip. Her hair is tied up into a short ponytail, reinforced with two bobby pins. A bandage is wrapped around her hand, which she moves very gingerly. Why is she here? I don't want her to see me in this weakened state.

The heat is unbearable. With a swift kick, I shove the blankets onto the floor. She frowns and goes over to pick it up, but I grab her wrist.

"Leave it." My voice comes out hoarse and strained.

I can't stand the heat. Did someone meddle with the thermostat? I glance over at the bowl of cold water she placed on the nightstand. If only I could reach over and drench my entire body in it. The only heat I ever enjoy is the warm, sticky flow of another person's blood. But this burning under my skin drives me crazy.

I grab the middle of my silk shirt and yank it open, buttons flying off. A partially healed cut runs down the center of my chest. I run my finger over it, feeling the jagged skin and crusty, dried blood. I should clean it.

"Don't do that. You'll reopen the cut." She urges.

She lifts the washcloth from my forehead and dips it back into the water, then wrings it. As she motions the place it back on my temple, I grab her hand and move it to my bare chest. The cool liquid instantly chills my scorching skin. She squeaks and gulps, but continues to gently dab at it. I close my eyes and relish in the momentary comfort, ignoring the stinging pain every time the cloth touches my cut.

As if in a daze, she moves the washcloth all over my upper body and wipes away the sweat, stopping only to dip it more water. I let her pamper me for a while, feeling the steady rhythm of her touch. My fever seems to evaporate the liquid within a few seconds, but she persistently sponges the area until my temperature stabilizes.

Suddenly, the movement stops and I open my eyes to see her getting up with the bowl in her hands. As she turns her back, I pine for more and grab the hem of her shirt. With a small tug, she stops and turns. I stare at her in defeat.

"Don't go." I implore.

She gives a small smile. "I'm just going to get you some food."

I grimace. Right now, I'm far from hungry. But my limbs cry out in exhaustion and I reluctantly allow her to bring me some nourishment. I want to regain my strength as quickly as possible so I can pay a visit to that bastard's house. With a lighter.

What's taking so long? Hurry up…The room feels strangely large. With a slight creak, the door cracks open. Took her long enough. I should chain her to my bedpost and keep her from leaving. But some random fucking maid walks in instead.

Frustration flares in my delirious mind. Go away! I don't want to see this bitch. Why do I have so many servants? What do I need them for? As if I care about the lawn or how much dust accumulates in the house. I'll fire them all. I just need her. She can do the cooking and cleaning. Everyone else just leave. No…those dimwits know too much. I can't let them go. Dammit.

"I've brought a humidifier to help alleviate your symptoms, Len-sama." The dumb maid says, just barging in.

I growl. "Get that thing away from here and never come back!"

The woman scurries away. Ugh…now my throat hurts. And my head. And everywhere. I can't breathe. My nose is so clogged. Maybe that humidifier was a good idea. "I hate this!" I croak.

A sweet, angelic voice floats through the air. "Try not to shout too much, you'll strain your throat."

She breezes in with a silver tray set with a bowl, a cup, a spoon, and a napkin. So that's all. Then what took so long?!

Warm steam wafts from the bowl as she sets it on the nightstand and I can breathe a little. It smells good. But my stomach twists and turns with discomfort. I don't want it. She scoops up a small spoonful and brings it to my lips. The soup is blazing.

"Hot…" I moan.

She chuckles. "Sorry." Her mouth puckers into a plush, cherry red "O" while she gently blows the soup. This time, I grudgingly open my mouth and accept the food. I can't really taste it, but its warmth feels rather nice. It feels…familiar.

"Come on, Len. you need to eat to regain your strength." She calls.

Her long, blond hair is pulled into her usual messy ponytail. She wears an apron that's slightly too big over her elementary school uniform. Senior year. She kept gloating over going to a fancy new middle school in just a few months. I was a bit saddened that we would be separated, but at least I still had O-kun with me until I graduated the next year.

"Fine…" I slurp up the hot soup she feeds to me and feel its contents settle in my body. This isn't quite so bad.

Then a pungent odor slices through the air and I automatically clap a hand over my mouth. I know that smell. Mother used to get it out every time we got sick. The inhumane medicine smelt like bitter herbs and fish mixed with an attempt at a "cherry" flavor. It tasted far worse. I can't stand it. I would rather suffer in bed for the next month.

"No!" I shriek, and pull the covers over my head.

She giggles and strokes the top of my hair. "Please, Len. It will make you feel better."

I frown and roll over to the other side of the bed. Absolutely not. I refuse to submit. She crawls on top of the bed and sits next to me, and I consider escaping through the window.

"Silly. Just one spoonful." She pleads. I sigh. She wins every time.

I slowly pull down the covers and open my mouth. As soon as my lips part, she sticks the cold metal spoon in and in an instant, I'm flooded with disgust. Why must I be tormented at such a young age? I can't wait until I can go to middle school too. Then maybe I can make my own decisions more. Maybe I can stand up to father once I get bigger. I can't wait until that day.

Even rolling around tires me. The blankets are soft and the room is quiet; I can faintly smell her sweet scent. Soon, my eyelids start to droop and I feel myself dozing off. It's peaceful. I want to savor this moment.

Suddenly I feel her weight shifting on the bed and I see her figure retreating as I crack open my eye. Wait…what is she doing? She promised to stay with me. She can't leave me. She can't abandon me, just like mother. I don't want to be alone. Was she planning to leave the minute I fell asleep? How can she do this to me?

I force my body to move and lunge at her. I push her down onto the bed and hold her there, hugging her with my body. I won't let you go.

"H-Huh? Len?!" She cries. Her blue eyes widen in surprise.

She's all I have left. I can't lose her.

"Onee-chan…" I feebly murmur. My body burns and I feel my strength slipping away.

She smells like…citrus? That's odd. She usually smells like bananas.

Soon, my arms give out and I collapse on top of her. Darkness comes swirling in and I feel a soft hand on my cheek before fainting.

* * *

When I open my eyes, it's already dark outside. How long was I asleep? My head feels much clearer and I'm much more alert; that medicine must have worked. The medicine…who fed it to me? My sister…

I quickly sit up, nearly bonking into her. She smiles and places her palm on my forehead. Was she here the entire time?

"Rin? What happened?" I choke out.

"You were really delirious. I was getting worried, good thing you're somewhat back to normal." She replies.

Back to normal? Did I act differently? All I remember is lying down, and a girl taking care of me. A kind, warm girl with a fragrant scent. A pang flashes in my heart and I subconsciously reach out to her. That warmth…it makes me feel strange, uneasy.

I slide my arm around her narrow shoulders and pull her into my chest. Still dizzy, I fall back against the pillows, dragging her along with me. I can sense her breath tickling my sternum through my thin shirt. Her soft hair fans out across my neck, and I catch a whiff of her shampoo. I move my fingers down from her shoulder and stroke the creamy, smooth skin on her arm.

"Len?" She interjects, slightly alarmed.

My mind comes to a standstill. Involuntary tears prick the bottom of my eyes as I suck in a gasp of air. This light, floating feeling inside of me is surely due to my fever. It's odd. Acting spoiled, being pampered. These actions were a thing of the past. But today, it was as if I had fallen through time, back to my life during elementary school.

"Thank you." I mumble. I don't know if she heard me, but a small hand soon wrapped around my waist and squeezed it. Returning the gesture, I enveloped her with both of my arms and held her there.


	14. Won't Let Go

With a cup of black coffee heated just hot enough to burn, I head into my library for some morning leisure time. I should find her a recipe book since she seems so inclined towards domestic activities. I wonder if she knows how to make blood soup; I definitely have all the ingredients for that in my house.

To my extreme annoyance, that British bastard is sitting in my chair. What is he doing here and why did my servants not follow my order? They were supposed to shoot on sight. Useless mongrels.

"Good morning, Len-pyon!" He chirps in an overly cheery voice dripping with falseness. No wonder he was banished from England.

"Go to the farthest depths of hell." I snarl. "And get off my chair."

He playfully sticks out his tongue, but slides off the seat. I gnash my teeth. Next time, I will make sure to sear away that rubbery pink tongue with a pair of hot tongs, medieval style. Then I remember his revelations a few days ago.

Those pictures. The locket. I want to know the truth. How does he have them?

"What did you do to my sister?" I demand.

He smiles. "I didn't do anything. She came to me on her own, running into my arms. To get away from her psychopath of a brother."

Within seconds, I yank the collar of his shirt and let my nails dig into his skin a bit. The glee dancing in his irises falter almost unnoticeably.

"Liar." I spit.

The muscles around his eyebrow twitch and his jaw firmly sets. "You don't think it's possible? A boy goes insane and murders his equally messed up father. To get away, she fakes her death and finds shelter in the only person she has left. Me."

The only person she has left? Bullshit. She loved me. I saved her from that man. I did what was necessary. My father was schizophrenic, bipolar, manic depressive, and never took his medications. He would have killed us all in a frenzy if I hadn't stopped him.

Bastard. I raise the cup and splash searing hot coffee over his upper body.

He yelps and breaks from my grip, clutching at his reddening skin. The murky liquid streams down his pores, leaving blisters in its path. The crisp whiteness of his button-down shirt darkens and wetly clings to his skin, scorching his chest. His flesh bubbled and peeled, becoming more inflamed as he clawed at it.

I gaze at his spasmodic fits of pain. An indescribable sense of elatedness floats in my head. I've really missed the joys of torture. His features contort in a myriad of violent emotions, none of which quite fit the situation.

I subconsciously ruffle his feathery hair with my fingers, as though my muscles were jolted into a familiar action. "It seems I have finally found someone as crazy as I am."

At this gesture, rage mars his expression and he slams into me, knocking us to the ground. "Don't you dare compare us, you demon."

Interesting. This brat seems to need a mirror.

I take a few breaths to calm myself. I can't kill this shrimp. Not yet, at least. Not until I have her location and confirm that she's even alive or with him. For now, I'll restrain my desires for her sake.

"Why are you here?" I growl.

The anger on his face slowly morphs into a twisted, ravenous smile. "To see Rin-nee. I bet she's eagerly awaiting her adorable white knight, here to save her from the beast."

Seriously, what is wrong with this person? Just a stupid flea jumping around me. Every time I glance at him, a spark of resentment ignites in my chest. What are his motives for doing all of this?

He leans over and brushes my ear with his lips. I'm about to recoil in digust.

"You're my rival, Len-pyon. I will be sure to claim victory over you." He whispers.

Rival? I can only consider those of equal status as my rival. With a flick of my elbow, I shove him away.

He touches his lips with his fingers, coyly grinning at me before darting away.

Is he going to pounce on my doll? Quite some nerve he's got, attempting to defy me in my own house. I prepare to go after him with a bat when something catches my eye.

A slip of paper folded a few times rests on the carpet. It must have fallen out of his pocket. The paper is wrinkled and frayed at the edges, at least a few years old based on its appearance. Did he leave it here on purpose, or is he actually stupid?

I finger it and bring it up to my eye. Should I go ahead and see what's written in it, or chase the brat and keep him away from her? Obviously, I choose the latter.

I stick the paper in my jacket and pull myself off the ground. My hand closes around the cold brass handle and I fling open the mahogany door. To my surprise, she is standing there alone with a British pest in sight. Did he do something to her? How long was she standing there?

"What did he do to you?" I demand.

She ignores my question and asks, "Why am I here?"

What? Is she sleep-walking or amnesiac? "What do you-"

"Just what am I to you?" She continues. "Who do you see when you look at me?"

Who? I see…her. I see my precious treasure, my doll, lover. "Is something wrong?" I wonder.

"I know about your past, Len!" Her hands curl up into fists and a stormy expression crosses her face.

Everything? Who told her? How much does she know?

"I know about your crazy dad and how your mom left and how your sister died, or so you thought. I know about your relationship with Oliver-kun, what you did to him. What you did to everyone. Oliver-kun told me everything. Everything that I'd hoped you would tell me. Maybe not all at once, but at least something." She rambles.

Is that what she is mad about? "I apologize for not telling you sooner. It's just…I'm not even completely sure of it all."

Her brow wrinkles. "Huh?"

"Look, I lost parts of my memory after killing my father. I guess it was the shock and trauma. I don't know how Oliver and I are related or huge chunks of my childhood. Things come back to me in flashes, usually when there is a trigger. All I have left is anger and blood lust." I reveal.

Her tone softens. "You mistook me for your sister the other day when you were sick. I can't blame you since you were so delirious, but it's obvious what you think of me. We're really similar, Lenka and I, aren't we?"

Lenka? "Is that her name?" I murmur.

Pity enters her eyes and she goes to me, enveloping me in a warm hug. "You're not a bad person, Len. Just very messed up. You need help. You need to sort out your past and move on."

"What are you doing?" I choke out.

She pulls away and strokes my cheek. I hurriedly grab her hand and keep it there, not willing to let go of her touch. A bad feeling settles in my gut.

"Leaving. You don't love me; you love what I remind you of and give to you. But you shouldn't be stuck in the past like this. You're smart and talented and have a future. Resolve your issues and go forward." She urges.

That's ridiculous. Of course I love her. I love…her.

"No!" I cry.

But she leaves.

Where is she going? How dare she go against me? I'll punish her, whip her, slice up her smooth skin and fill it with scars that will forever remind her of me and only me. But I don't. So far, I haven't even made a scratch on that little doll. I suppose this is what happens when I go too soft on her.

Her back is rapidly retreating, but it feels as if my feet are frozen to the ground. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. Anger and desperation rises and I force my legs to move. I won't let her go. Not again.

My hand closes around her small shoulder. The bones underneath feel so thin and breakable. I could probably shatter them with just a bit more force. It's feminine, and oddly alluring. I want to squeeze and finger every bone in her body.

"Let me go…please." She says without even a hint of hesitation.

I stare at her still body and search. Search for remorse or uncertainty. Just the slightest fragment of waver is enough for me to pull her back. Anything. A tremble, a pause, fidgeting fingers, anything that contradicts her harsh tone and posture.

But she remains firm. My treasured doll shakes of my touch as though it were a pesky bug and heads towards the door. Her golden hair sways with every step she takes, glittering underneath the sunlight streaming in from the windows. Windows she opened.

Wrong move.

My eyes harden with cold resolve. I pick up an umbrella by the side of the couch. Silently, I creep up behind her while stiffening the muscles in my arm. Her hand reaches out for the doorknob and I simultaneously raise the umbrella.

With a dull whack, the hard wooden handle comes crashing down against the back of her head. A cry of pain scarcely flutters from her mouth before her knees buckle and she crumples into my arms. I gently turn her around and bring her face to my chest, imitating a gentleman catching a swooning girl. How different our situation is.

Then I see the tears streaking across her cheeks. The inklings of a smile tug at the corners of my lips. This girl really does cry at everything. What a pathetic weakling she is.

I swing her over my shoulder, reminiscent about our very first meeting. Things have changed quite a bit since then. I've become too caring, less cold, less violent, less myself. I'm losing my identity under her influence. She's shaken me, but I will definitely come to my senses.

With the clanking and clattering of a chain, I imprison this foolish girl in a hidden room beneath my library.


	15. Reminiscence

It comes back to me in flashes.

As I rack my brain for hours at a time, the fleeting moments of my childhood come falling into place. The violent mess that had become of the place I called home, the supportive arms of the two people I cared most about in the world, and the painful fallout with a person I once saw as a friend.

Before, I had never bothered to try to remember and merely indulged in whatever I desired at the present. But without knowing what happened, how could I understand my feelings for this girl, and the ties of the past holding me back?

"You don't love me; you love what I remind you of and give to you" is what she said.

The love given to me by my sister was one of the few things that kept me on the brink of sanity as a child. Then everything fell apart. I can't deny that the warmth in this girl touched a part of me that had been hidden in the past. Yet is that all she is to me?

I refuse to believe that.

The days I spent with her were filled with a different kind of bliss. The pure jubilation and excitement we experienced were constantly interlaced with passion and desire. My insanity ripped apart all barriers from the very beginning. Together, we created new memories and moved forward at lightning speeds.

But I'm spiraling. My love for her is a painful reminder of the past. She's right; I can't move on. Not yet. I need to resolve the plague spreading in my body. That's why I need to remember every detail so I can clear my head.

Of course, she is absolutely not allowed to simply leave while this is happening. I've locked her up nice and safe in a place only I have access to. My love for her is being tested, but it won't waver. I'll make sure of that.

* * *

I descend the musty stairwell leading to a private underground room. The massive iron door is locked with a series of combinations unknown to anyone other than me. I'm not even entirely sure where I was getting the numbers from. With a click, it swings open.

She lies on a large bed with her arms folded near the pillow and her head turned slightly to the side. Is she sleeping? It's the middle of the night, but I don't usually sleep this early. I wonder what she is dreaming about. Me? She better be.

The room is grand and luxurious, fit for a princess. I remember her childish fantasy of wanting to be one. I remember every word she has ever uttered. I've filled it with many items she likes, including a grand piano and a book shelf of those idiotic young adult novels. A few of my personal favorites are tossed in there just in case she comes to her senses and decides to read something good. Of course, there is a small basket of oranges and clementines in the corner.

I kneel down beside her and watch her chest rise and fall with every breath she draws. The silky night gown she wears slips off her shoulder a bit. I'm tempted to rip it off, but settle on gazing at her resting face instead.

Her cheeks are rosy and her lips are parted slightly. Combined with the loose, wrinkled night gown, she unconsciously emits a very seductive aura. A wayward strand of hair falls across her face and I quickly brush it away, stroking her cheek in the process.

Just gazing at her beauty would be enough to satisfy me for years. I'm drawn to her allure and mechanically bring my face closer to hers. Indeed, I am a prisoner of love. And she is a prisoner.

A soft cry escapes from her mouth and she abruptly awakens. Her sapphire eyes meet mine and she blinks for a few times, still groggy. Then she gasps and recoils, drawing the blanket higher around herself.

"Did you sleep well?" I inquire.

A crease forms between her eyebrows and she opens her mouth then closes it, as if considering what to say. Is there anything to think about? Just say what comes to mind. I'm overcome with a strong sense of dominance and pull her to me.

"Look at me." I command.

Her pale cheeks glow with a pink undertone, but her eyes are someplace else. Shadows dance on her irises, as if she is deep in thought and unaware of my presence. Do I need to make myself more clear to her? Why isn't she paying attention to me?

I push her down onto the pillows and kneel down on top of her, leaving only an inch or two of space between us. She gives far less of a reaction than when we first met, merely widening her eyes a bit. It's slightly frustrating to say the least.

"Rin!" I shout. Her name rolls off my tongue and I wonder why I didn't say it more often.

She is startled by this, and snaps up her head to look at me. A soft smile escapes her lips and she exhales a puff of air, as though chuckling. "I feel like that's the first time you've called my name like that."

"Huh?" For once, I'm the one at a loss for words.

"To be honest, you actually don't talk as much as one would imagine. It's mostly through your actions that I can sense what you're thinking about." She admits.

I suppose I am a more thought-oriented person. How she managed to comprehend me at all is rather impressive. Indeed, she is truly meant for me.

"In that case, guess what I'm thinking about." I murmur.

Her mouth opens to respond, but I swiftly plant a kiss on her lips before she can speak. I catch a whiff of citrus as I deepen the kiss, parting her mouth and allowing my tongue to slip through. So she has been eating the fruit I gave her. The thought pleases me and I caress her with more passion.

Gradually, I shift my focus downwards and leave territorial markings around her upper body. A strangled moan comes from her as I gently nip at her neck. The emotions between us have grown mutual over the time we've spent together and I smile at her inability to resist. She is taking pleasure in this.

Through shaky breaths, she gasps out "You're obviously thinking of something dirty."

I pause for a moment and probe her for more. "And?"

Her face turns beet red and she stammers. "M-Maybe comparing this to before?"

Interesting. "Good guess. It seems that you're giving into your desires a lot more. You don't push me away so fast anymore. Don't restrain yourself if you want me that badly."

"W-What?!" Embarrassed, she makes a half-hearted attempt to escape, and ends up grasping my jacket for support instead.

I take this gesture as an invitation to continue, and draw her into my arms. I playfully bite her ear and roughly kiss and suck at her shoulder. Her back stiffens and arches forward, and I feel her grip tighten around my chest.

"Ah…w-wait…This isn't what I was planning to do when you came here." She groans, but does not do anything to struggle against me. It seems she has finally submitted to my control.

"In that case, what do you propose we do?" I humor her, but fondle her curves through the thin, silky fabric of her dress.

"Review your past." She bluntly replies.

I break away, expecting her to say this. I had only hoped she would wait until after we made love. A sigh flows from my mouth and I reluctantly move to sit next to her.

"So what do you want to know?" I ask.

She's stunned at my immediate response and sucks in some air. "W-Well, Oliver-kun told me pretty much everything, though I want your input and confirmation."

She falters, and I motion for her to continue.

"Your dad had some problems…schizophrenia?...and didn't really like taking his medications. Most of his violence was taken out on your mother, though after a while he went after you and your sister." She speaks hesitatingly and nervously.

"Well hearing voices and seeing things can do that to a person. It really stumps me as to why mother married him in the first place. Maybe she was a gold digger and saw an easy target. I guess that's karma for you." I interject.

She looks horrified.

"Don't be so cautious. You're probably one of the only people I would even want to share this with." I amend.

"A-Anyways, you spent your days with Lenka and Oliver. You guys were the best of friends for a while. Then your mother couldn't take it anymore and left."

Nostalgia crept into my voice as I reminisced my time with them. "Those two made life a lot easier. Onee-chan took care of me and raised me really well, considering she was only a year older. When our mother left, she was really devastated and got more distant with us. And Oliver is actually my step-brother; his mother had an affair with my father without her husband knowing. Even so, we were still close."

"But Oliver said that there was a big fallout between you two, which caused him to lose an eye." She objects.

He didn't specify? I'm not surprised. Of course that bastard didn't tell her everything.

"It took me a while to realize it, but Oliver had been obsessed with my sister the entire time. He had a shed plastered from top to bottom with pictures of her. I was disgusted and enraged. After she committed suicide, I snapped and burned his house down. Then I murdered my father." I spat.

By now, she is visibly shaking. "The other day though…Oliver said she faked it?"

I nod. "That's what I'm confused about."

I pull out the paper that had fallen from his pocket and hand it to her.

"What's this?" She asks.

"This fell out of Oliver's coat the last time he came here. It's my sister's suicide note, but it's not the same one I found in her hand that day. I don't know which is the real one." I explain.

"It is really okay for me to be reading this?" She questions.

"Of course. Now that you're involved in all this, you should know." I urge her to open it.

She unfolds the crinkly paper and silently mouths the words as she reads.

_ Dear my precious little brother,_

_I'm so, so sorry that I did this. I tried to be strong, I really did. But I just can't hold this family together anymore, especially now that mom left. The pain in my heart grows with each passing second and sometimes, it takes all the strength I have to smile. When I look out the window, I see children and their parents laughing and having fun as a family. Why can't that be us? I try to recreate that happiness with you, and forget the terrors at home. We had some good times, and you have brought me genuine smiles. Yet why do I feel like crumbling into dust? Why do I feel so alone? I guess it was stupid of me to shoulder everything on my own. _

_ I'm scared. I'm scared of father, I'm scared for our future, and I'm scared of the person I'm becoming. I'm faking everything. I'm not happy at all. I don't want to play. I want to curl up into a ball and sob for eternity. My façade is breaking and I can't keep it up anymore. I would rather die with love for you in my heart, than become hollow and cold behind a mask. I'm sorry for being so selfish and I hope you can forgive me. I love you. _

_-Kagamine Lenka_

Tears stream down her face by the time she finishes reading. Her fingers tremble and she carefully folds the paper back up and sets it on the bed. Then she turns to me with a heart-breaking expression.

She leans her head against my chest and wraps her arms around me. Her kindness never fails to reach me in places I didn't even know I had. I want to melt in her embrace and disappear with her from this world. I hug her body tightly and breathe in her sweet scent. If only time passed slower.

Her voice breaks into the silence, muffled by my shirt. "S-So what was in the letter you found in her hand?"

My eyes darken and I feel my body involuntarily stiffen. She notices and glances at me worriedly.

"Something much different." I mutter.


	16. Bonus: Rin's POV

A/N: I'm losing motivation to write D: why am I so lazy and uninterested? I'll try to keep this story alive but don't expect too much.

* * *

Bonus Chapter: Rin's Thoughts

Crazy.

That's the first word that came to my mind when all of this started. I'm just a normal, high school girl living a mundane life. Suddenly being kidnapped by some freak and locked away in his mansion felt surreal, as if a storybook had come to life and sucked me into it. It had to be a dream. It was so beyond my comprehension of reality and normalcy. It just doesn't make sense. These types of things just don't happen in real life. They don't. They can't.

And above all else, why me? Of the billions of people on the earth, why was I chosen to be the pet of a sadistic rich boy who looks like a character taken straight from a manga? The whole situation was so absurd that I could burst out laughing, and tell myself over and over that this was a dream, or nightmare. Funny, really.

Except it's not funny at all. Len is the epitome of cruel and inhumane, with his constant harassment and bestiality. I can't go two hours without him barging in to terrorize me. And the loneliness is enough to rival Len's torture. I miss my friends, my classmates, and most of all, my brother.

Rinto-nii was all I had after my parents were killed in a car crash. He raised me single-handedly the best he could, balancing school, work, and parenting. All while suppressing his own grief for my sake. I owed the world to him. And now he's dead. And I will never be able to repay my debt to him, show him my gratitude, and tell him how much I love him. My one family member is dead. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

It's all Len's fault. He locked me in here and abused me over and over. When all of your freedom and happiness as a person is stripped away, what becomes of you? Am I no longer considered a human being to the eyes of the world? Is my pain a laughing-stock of the gods? Or God. Or maybe not. I don't even know. I don't know what's going to happen to me on a daily basis. My stability has been yanked from me and now all I have is fear. And confusion.

Who exactly is this "Len" character? Is he a villain or a warped hero? What even defines a "villain" or "hero"? And who's to say he's not both? Len's mind is severely damaged, perhaps to the point of no repair. The reasons for that are slowly revealed to me piece by piece. Is it possible for a boy to escape such a troubled past unscathed? Is it really his fault that he's like this?

Sometimes I think he is actually a good person at the core. Little by little, I see more of his sensitive side and I find myself caring for him. There's a certain tenderness in him that's heavily marred by fury and grief. When I look at Len, a deep sorrow cuts into my chest and makes me question everything. Staring into his troubled eyes is like gazing at a teardrop encased in ice. The fragility mirrors that of a crystal, appearing strong but shattering at the slightest amount of force.

Perhaps we are both trapped, in so many more ways than physical. What will it take to break free, and will opening the cage only expose us to the dangers of the "real" world?

* * *

"And then I flat-out rejected him and told him to come back when he grows a pair." Miku gloated, tossing a shiny blue pigtail over her shoulder.

Luka scoffed and tossed a pillow at her. "Isn't that a bit too cruel, Miss Big-Head?"

"Coming from the girl who told poor Gakupo-senpai to 'go google it' every time he asked a question." Miku retorted.

I giggled. Miku and Luka are both so beautiful; boys confess to them almost every day at school. Naturally, they've come up with creative ways to deter them. Listening to them gossip makes me wish I had more romantic relationships. Still, I've always been the type of girl who prefers one true soulmate over a thousand dating partners.

The door burst open and Miku's brother, Mikuo, came in holding a game controller. "Any of you lovely ladies want to play? That is of course, referring to Rin and Luka, not that hag over there."

Miku shrieked and threw the nearest stuffed animal at his face. "Get out, doofus! This is a girls-only sleepover."

Luka and I quickly joined in, flinging everything from plushies to shoes at him until he left, yelling "What are you, twelve?!"

I secretly wanted to join Mikuo. He was always so kind and playful, with a cute smile that instantly made me blush. I guess he was what people would call a crush. Still, someone as handsome as him would probably prefer a prettier girl, like Luka.

The laughter in the room started to grow more distorted. My vision blurred and I staggered, suddenly afraid. Miku and Luka's swirling faces were frozen in an unnatural smile, and they gradually grew more distant and dim.

"Guys?" I called out.

There was no answer, only continuous laughter that heaved and choked out of their mouths. Suddenly, a bright red "X" appeared in front of their bodies, which had morphed into a shadowy silhouette of their original form. The fright built up, and I collapsed onto the ground as my breathing grew more ragged.

Luka's body split open with a gruesome spelch, spurting dark blood into the air. The laughter began to sound like painful cries. One by one, everyone I knew appeared for a second, only to be painted with an "X" and ripped apart. Blood and bits of mangled flesh sprayed out into the room and splashed onto my face, filling the air with a revolting stench.

Paralyzed by the gripped nausea and terror, I could only sit in a growing puddle of blood and cry. What was happening?

A singled figure walked forward with an axe in his hand, maniacally grinning and covered in gore. I cowered and simpered as he came up to me and held out a hand, boring into me with his icy blue eyes.

"Those guys who interfere with you and I- all of them, all of them, all of them, I'll get rid of them all. Look, it's fine now, so say how you really feel." He crooned.

I screamed and jolted awake, relieved it was just a dream.

As I opened my eyes, I was met by Len's face. On instinct, I jerked away and pulled the covers around me. What was he doing here? Oh right, he locked me up in his basement when I tried to leave.

The images of my disturbing dream replay in my mind, and I try to calm down my breathing. Len is a psycho, and my dream was just a reminder of that fact. He literally stabbed Miku and Mikuo, then managed to send them to juvie. What if he hurt the other people I was close to without me knowing? The thought is horrifying.

Immersed in my thoughts, I don't notice what Len is saying until he grabs my shoulders and pulls me towards him. His hands are surprisingly gentle, and warm. The touch brings me back to my senses and I am suddenly very aware of his presence.

"Look at me." He orders.

Gulping down the flutters growing in my chest, I raise my gaze to meet his. Len is beautiful, with androgynous features and yellow hair that messily falls over his clear blue eyes. An involuntary blush heats up my cheeks and my chest contracts, catching my breath and causing my heart to beat faster. My skin tingles in the areas where his breath grazes. Anywhere he makes contact with, my body throbs and pulses with energy.

This attraction defies the fear and contempt I'm supposed to hold towards him. Len is a monster, so why is my body responding to his with such desire?

He pushes me down onto the bed, forcefully shoving his lips against mine. I know that resisting him is futile, and give in. As he slips in his hot tongue, a wave of feverish heat and craving rattles me. Is it wrong to feel pleasure at his touch? He's a beast who's keeping me as prisoner here. I can't let this continue. I should hate him and fear him.

I try to break away, but end up grabbing onto his jacket in a daze. He holds me closer, planting rough kisses onto my shoulder. Sweat begins to form at my temples and I pant, completely intoxicated by his control. This isn't supposed to happen. I'm so weak against his advances and it infuriates me. It shouldn't be this hard to fight back. This has to stop. Stop.

"Ah…w-wait…This isn't what I was planning to do when you came here." I choke out.

I want to know about his past, clarify everything I know so that I can try to understand him better. Maybe then I can sort out these conflicting emotions I have and get a grip on our relationship. But most of all, I want to know if I can help him, if he's worth any help.

Surprisingly enough, he relents. Perhaps Len really is starting to change.

I hesitatingly run through everything Oliver told me, examining his reaction. Digging up the past can be painful; I know this firsthand. But Len is calm, and fills me in on the gaps of my knowledge. He speaks passively, with a hint of wistfulness.

The tumultuous tragedies of his childhood are unbelievable. The horrific events Len has experienced are beyond my limited comprehension. Has he been keeping all of this inside himself for all these years?

My own parents were kind and loving, and losing them to faulty brakes and a slippery road was devastating. I cried for months, feeling as if my entire world had been snatched from me and ripped to shreds. It was unfair, and there was no one to blame, no outlet to plug my anguish into. But I had my brother there, holding me every step of the way until I was ready to stand up and move forward with my life. I had my friends, who did whatever they could to cheer me up and offer a supporting hand. Everyone around me reached out and pulled me out of the darkness of my misery.

Len had no one. His mother left him at an early age. His father was severely troubled and abusive, and Len himself slaughtered him. The only friend he knew turned out to be a sick fiend and his sister, the only person who ever showed him benevolence, killed herself. Alone in the world with blood on his hands and violence corrupting his thoughts, Len spiraled farther into his abyss.

I don't think Len can ever really be cured of the psychotic emotions tainting his mind. The devils of the past will always continue to haunt him, just as they do to me. Except I was able to accept the path and move forward. Len's scars run far deeper than mine, and I doubt they can fully heal.

I suppose the real question is whether I choose to stand beside him despite knowing this.


	17. Objective

"E-Eh? Different how?" She inquires.

The exact hard copy of the letter is stored away somewhere, but I more or less have the words ingrained into my mind after countless hours spent reading over it. Gripping the edge of the bed, I slowly suck in a breath of air and exhale through my mouth to calm down. I will not break down. I won't.

"It goes something like this..." I begin.

_Len,_

_Please don't blame yourself for what I have done. It's something I've been meaning to do for a while now, but just never had the courage until now. There are some things that you should know, things that I've kept to myself all this time. _

_Father...has many problems. In fact, we have such an isolated house because his parents wanted to keep him away from the rest of the world. Whether it was out of protectiveness or shame, I don't know. Mother is actually a nurse sent to care for him, and was raped by him. That's what she told me, at least. It would be more believable if she wasn't living like an heiress and then running off when things started to worsen. I suppose mental instability is just in our genes. _

_Also, I don't know if you've noticed or not, but Oliver seems to have inherited some of Father's psychopathic traits. He's our step-brother, born from an unfortunate encounter between a confused foreign lady and a heavily drugged hallucinatory man. He stares at me with the same, twisted and lustful look Father often gives me. Disgusting, huh? But that's not the main reason I did this._

_Recently, I was diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder. It seems that there is another side to me that comes out at night. Mother's injuries weren't inflicted by Father, who was always on sedatives, but by me. I lashed out at servants who turned a blind eye and overdosed Father as well. The second me wants our parents dead for bringing us into a warped world and continuing to torment us. It seems I was the cause of Mother's abandonment of you. My thirst for blood is growing stronger, and I can only hope to refrain from possibly hurting you by doing this to myself. Just know that I really, really loved you. _

"...And that's pretty much it." I conclude.

Indeed, it would appear that my insanity was simply inevitable. We're simply an entire family of nutcases and mental patients, quite incredulous really. Everything is so ridiculous. How are we all so messed up? Hilarious. I feel a choking, strained laughter bubbling up from my chest and I burst out into gasps for air.

"Oh my goodness...Len..." Rin whimpers, and softly places her hand on top of mine. As she strokes my whitening knuckles, I feel drops of liquid splattering onto our combined hands. At this point, I'm not entirely sure whose it is.

It's hard to explain my emotions. They come and go like an overwhelming tide that overflows my brain and takes complete control over my actions. When the wave washes away, I'm left with a hollow emptiness in my strained body. All I can really do is sit and wait for the next surge of insanity. I'm used to it, and have come to relish in fits of violence and bloodshed. It's thrilling and the only action that brings some sort of pleasure or happiness.

But to think that Lenka-nee was...bloodthirsty. It's much different than the kind, soft memories I have of her. Though, I can't say it isn't amusing how similar we siblings are. I wonder what weapons she preferred to use. Did she simply use her hands to beat and strangle? The medicine overdoses were truly clever and untraceable; I'm actually quite proud. There are so many things I want to talk to her about, so many people I want to hunt down with her. Call it a sister complex, or misery likes company.

"I don't even know what to say." She blurts, cutting into my thoughts.

I turn to face her, and slowly absorb every inch of her image. Her white silk nightgown is rumpled and pulled off her right shoulder, which is covered by a sheet of fair blonde hair. It's grown longer since when we first met, and now extends to her upper back. She seems paler and thinner, and there are faint hints of eye bags under her beautiful azure irises. The trembling hand laid atop my own is small and childlike. At a glance, she looks frailer than ever. Yet there is an emerging strength rising in her gaze that I had never seen before.

My heart throbs with yearning for this person. I shall certainly cherish her forever. Yes, she is my sole princess in this world. My...sole...my one and only. I must be destined to be with her. Rin? I love Rin? Or...Lenka-nee? No, one is my princess, and one is my partner. I _think_ I know who's who. I will have her, own her, chain her by my side. My cute little doll for me to play with. I'll surely kill anyone who comes in our way, even myself.

"You don't have to say anything. Just be here." I demand.

The corners of her lips tug upwards and she nods, tightening her grip on my hand.

We spend a while sitting in silence, holding hands. Perhaps a few minutes, or maybe an hour; I don't really know or care. I can feel the warmth of her body through the fabric of my jacket, and my skin tingles with anticipation at her touch. If only we could stay here for an eternity. Together. Alone. Without restraint.

After some time, she speaks. "Hey, where do you suppose Oliver lives?"

"I burned his old house into rubble and ash, so most likely not there. Given that he's holding a girl captive, I would assume it is someplace remote. My best guess would be that newly built Western-style mansion just outside of city limits." I reply.

The warmth evaporates from my side as she swiftly hops off the bed and heads towards the closet. I was relishing in the soft skin of her hand against mine. Who gave you permission to get up like that? I want her shackled to me, unable to move away.

"Where do you think you're going?" I snipe, grabbing her wrist.

She twirls around, glowing with energy and resolve. "Isn't it obvious? I'm getting changed so that we can go rescue Lenka-san. Hurry up and prepare some weapons."

Hmm? It would appear that my little doll just ordered me around. This determination in her voice, where did it come from? Surely she isn't expecting to barge into the maggot's house and pillage it in a blind search for my sister. Such a spontaneous, ill-thought out plan is coming out of my lover's mouth. How interesting. Well, I would rather enjoy seeing the look on that vermin's face.

I'll play along with her then. "Alright. Change into the clothes I've prepared for you then follow me into my arsenal room."

With a curt nod, she disappears into the closet. In the midst of her excitement, my clumsy lover left the door open a sliver. On accident, or secretly on purpose? What an intriguing situation.

I gaze at her undress through the crack. The silky fabric of the nightgown slides off her slender body with ease, revealing a pair of matching lace panties and bra that scantily clad the tender areas underneath. Her small waist, smooth arms, and snow white curves of her calves and thighs form an alluring, feminine figure that entices me to no end. Within seconds, her figure is clothed with a short frilly dress and high socks. The design resembles a Victorian-style muslin, modified to end before her knees. Lightweight and doll-like, it suites my tastes very much.

The door creaked open and she emerged, rather flushed and fidgety.

"Is this...all?" She squeaked.

Embarrassed? How pitifully cute. "What's wrong? Are they not to your liking?"

"Er.." Her hands fiddled with the hem of the skirt. "It's...fine."

I allow my eyes to scan her entire outfit, indulging in the porcelain beauty before heading out and motioning for her to follow. At the end of the hall, my weapons room sits, fully stocked as ever.

A slight gasp escapes from her throat as she steps in. Lined with an array of dangerous blades and munitions of varying sizes, the room is astonishing to the average person, to say the least. I pocket a switchblade, strap a pistol onto my belt, slip on some spiked brass knuckles, and pull off my shirt to conceal a bulletproof vest underneath. She squawks and turns away at the sight of my chest. I wonder what color her face is right now.

Adequately armed, I prepare to leave. This amount should be enough for a basic infiltration without arousing public panic when I step out of the house. Perhaps I ought to stuff my jacket with some explosives. Lighter fluid and matches would be ideal for burning his second house down. Yes, I'll fill up a bottle with lighter fluid and hide it in my sleeve. Now off to the kitchen.

"What about me?" She interjects.

Her? What about her? Surely my doll isn't thinking of handling a weapon. I alone am enough to protect her. She must be solely dependent on me, desperately need me, unable to live without me.

As if understanding my thoughts, she argues. "I'm not going to hide behind your back the entire time. Give me a weapon! I want to defend myself! Besides, you're probably going to need some help in case Oliver has guards."

How frustrating. A doll shouldn't be able to independently move without her master. Though, I suppose it would be troublesome to transport both her and Lenka-nee out.

"...Fine." I walk over and pick out a small, elegantly crafted handgun. Reluctantly, I place it in her hand.

She grasps the handle and practices aiming it. "You just point and shoot, right?"

What a cute, simple girl. "Straighten and steady your arm, use both hands for now. Be careful of the recoil and don't hesitate or waste ammunition."

She clumsily holds the gun, firing at random with the safety lock on. Honestly, how was my little toy planning on fighting? I'll just have to guide her like a child.

I walk next to her and adjust her stance. Her sweet scent wafts into my lungs at the proximity, and I find myself closing the gap between us. It would be so much better if we had chains and whips instead of handguns. I could teach her to tie someone up with rope, with a personal demonstration. I'll bind each limb with a handcuff and render her immobile, then violently explore every inch of her serene form. The possibilities are endless! But which half would I start with first?

"L-Len?" She exclaims with rouge cheeks. Getting excited? "We should probably go now."

That British bastard, cutting into a wonderful moment. I will surely execute him for occupying my lover's thoughts. Starting with a few bullets to the legs, then with cuts to the chest, a few stabs in the stomach, and the skin peeled off the arms. But the face is the most fun. After gouging out the eyes, carve out some small holes and fill them with lighter fluid. Then light a match and watch the hilarity ensue.

"Len!"

Yes, we must leave now to complete it by sundown. Armed and ready, Rin and I set out with a mutual objective.


	18. Confrontation Part I

I hate to admit it, but Oliver has managed to find a house more remotely situated than mine. Set on a small island that he likely purchased, it is just barely off the coast yet entirely under his jurisdiction. Well I suppose I wasn't expecting any governmental interference anyways. This may work out in my favor if I can slaughter him without a soul knowing.

A private jet takes me, Rin, and about fifty private military contractors to a landing site about a quarter mile away from the mansion. As it descends onto the grassy plain and the doors open, I leap off and offer her my hand like a true gentleman. She, however, brushes past me and takes the stairs. I'll have to get rid of those stairs.

"What a big house, I can see it all the way from here." She exclaims.

I glance around. The terrain is fair, but the path is uphill and riddled with brambles and stones.

"It's going to be a bit of a walk. Want me to carry you?" I offer.

Flustered, she quickly strides away. "It's fine!"

In her haste, my clumsy doll stumbles over a tree root. I swoop in and wrap an arm around her waist in an instant, catching and lifting her off the ground. Her soft body easily molds into mine, and I pull both arms over her torso to press her onto me. The familiar sweet scent of her shampoo wafts through the air and I bring my face to her ear.

"Are you injured? Be a bit more careful." I murmur.

Now fully flushed with color, she struggles out of my embrace and speeds up to shake off her embarrassment. How cute. But anyone or anything other than me causing potential injury to me lover is simple unforgiveable. I light a match and toss it onto the tree, setting it on fire. It begins to spread to its surroundings with increasing speed. I sprint forward at full speed and grab her hand, pulling us both safely out of the forest just in time.

The flames blaze brightly and burn away all life forms in the forest, and smoke rises from the ashes. What was once lush and green when we came is now charred and black. The brat can consider this as a warning for the demolition I shall soon inflict upon him.

His guards soon come charging out to face us, but I leave small fry like this for my underlings. Gunshots ring the air, blood sprays lightly from all directions, and the cries of men resound. Like music to my ears. Rin and I walk forward in the midst of it, unaffected.

"T-This is horrible! I can't believe you just burned down- and these people- dying- this is bad..." She gasps, pressing her shaking hands against her face.

It appears the bravado she displayed before is cracking as we venture further into the chaos. But soon she will see how much fun this is. I will show her the joy of watching the pain and agony of insects and enemies. Together we will indulge in the sweet pleasure of ripping skin apart like paper and reducing human vermin into piles of flesh. I may even let her join me in carving out Oliver's organs and force-feeding them back in his mouth. This will be very fun.

I clasp her trembling hands and bring them down from her face and say, "Don't fear it, embrace it."

Her eyes begin welling with tears and she gulps. "That's insane! How could I ever enjoy watching such things?"

"It's the same feeling as killing an annoying mosquito or bashing in the head of a cockroach. Of course, it will be much more satisfying when we butcher Oliver."

She opens her mouth and closes it, then goes silent.

Eventually, we reach the front entrance of the house. The heavy wooden doors swing open barely a second after my foot touches the porch. So the mini-tyrant is paying attention to us closely. I would expect no less from that scheming rat. Wary of traps, I roll a few stones into the entryway. After a few moments, nothing happens and I walk in. The doors slam shut again after Rin enters.

An eerie emptiness settles into the house and I wonder if anyone is in it. It's possible that this mansion is merely a prop meant to trap and distract us, while the bastard is hiding somewhere else. Still, Oliver is the type that prefers grandiose confrontations rather than secretive guerilla tactics. Blindly exploring the mansion won't be of much help if he's watching our every move. Perhaps I should just stand here until the dimwit loses patience and shows himself.

"Hey Len, what if your sister isn't even here? Maybe Oliver is plotting something." Rin worries.

"He definitely is, but that idiot surely wouldn't disappoint us after all that dramatic build-up." I reassure her.

Just as I expected, an effeminate voice cuts into the room and a figure emerges from the top of the staircase. "You know me so well, Len-pyon! I'm flattered that you two came all the way here just to see me! Shall I prepare some tea and refreshments?"

Bumbling fool. I point my rifle at him and shoot several rounds of bullets. They fly into flesh and leave gaping, bloody holes.

"How rude!" Oliver cries, and tosses aside an unfortunate servant used as a human shield. "Now I'm rather agitated."

"Cut to the chase already! Where's Lenka-san?" Rin shouts.

How startling. I didn't expect her to be so bold and audacious in front of Oliver, especially after seeing her panic earlier. My lover continues to surprise me with new layers to her character.

"Such impatience. Why she's right here." Oliver calls.

A girl with long blonde hair, azure eyes, and fair skin slowly steps out from a room behind him. A hollow sadness mars her beautiful features. My sister.

Sharp pains pierce my chest and my knees give out. It hurts...it hurts so much. I finally see my cherished sister after all this time. I missed her. I missed our simple happiness together. I thought she was dead for so long. For so long I lived with the anguish of losing her. Does she even know how much I was hurting? What happened to her? Why did she abandon me like this? Did she not even consider opening herself up to me? Was I not good enough? Why is she with Oliver? Why? Why? Why?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!

"Hahahahaha! Oh how long I've waited for this day! I should take a picture! Is everything finally crashing down for our cute little prince?!" Oliver screeches.

"You shut your damned mouth!" Rin retorts. A faint twinge of happiness at her concern glows then fades.

"Awww do you care about him? Well I have news for you, you idiotic prisoner. Len is deeply twisted to the very core. He's vile and corrupted by a massive evil harbored inside him. He'll snap at any moment now. Just give UP on his sorry ass already!"

That bastard.

The piece of shit grabs my sister and fondles her against him. The sight is sickening and rage flares in me. Why isn't she resisting? She's motionless, blank.

Oliver gloats "Guess what? Lenka came to me out of fear of hurting her baby brother and I chained her in that very room! I raped her every day, drugged her, screamed at her, until she became an empty shell. At night, when her second personality arose, we went on killing sprees together. We hunted down and murdered your mother, well, Lenka murdered her mother with her own two hands. How does it feel, knowing that the kind Lenka is practically brain-dead and all that's left is her dark side, completely loyal to me?"

She...He...mom...I can't...I hate him! Lenka! My sister! He tainted her and ruined her and manipulated her and-! Why is everything so messed up? Why can't I ever just be happy? Why is this happening? Am I truly a monster born from hell to deserve all this? Sometimes I just want to...My vision blurs with tears and my lungs constrict. I can't breathe. I barely register Rin's touch. She's saying something, comforting me. I just want to dissolve into her arms. But...onee-chan...I want to run to her.

"The only twisted person here is you! Do you even hear yourself talking, you demon?!" Rin snaps, placing her hand on her gun.

His eyes darken and he growls "That's quite enough out of you."

With lightening speed, he hurls a small throwing dagger at her.

I dive forward with all my might, but my legs won't work. My beloved yelps with pain as heavy crimson blossoms against her snow white muslin, falling gracefully to the floor. How. DARE. He.

"RIN!" I yell, but there's no response.

Everything. Everything is his fault. Kill. I must kill him. If I kill him then everything will be over. I can go back to my life. I can be happy again. We can be happy again. I just need to kill him.

My heart pounds with adrenaline and heat pulsates through my veins. A mixture of redness and tears take over my vision. My feet are moving on their own. The cold, hard handle of my dagger presses hard against my palm. I'm running. Now leaping through the air and making impact on something.

The dagger meets with resistance and warm, sticky blood sprays like a mist over my hands and face. I can hear screams. Multiple screams. There are hands on my body shoving me away. They are nowhere near strong enough to contain me as I am now. He must die. I'll kill him. I'll tear him to pieces. He deserves this. I deserve this.

Over and over again, I stab.

It's euphoric. Brief flashes of ecstasy penetrate the violent, swirling storm of emotions exploding out of me. This is the moment I've dreamed of. But the joy is ephemeral, and I feel the anguish returning to me. It's not enough. I'm still not satisfied. This wrath and torment I've bore inside of me is rising out of proportion.

"LEN!"

A panicked, shrill shriek pierces the air and disrupts my rhythmic slices. Is that Rin's voice? I...can't tell. The sound of my pounding heart throbs in my eardrums and muffles my surroundings. My chest screams with a wrenching pain, splitting apart my ribcage and violently contracting with every labored pant. I want this agony to go away. I'll pour all my emotions into this gruesome, mangled corpse in front of me as its flesh squelches with each stab.

I'm scorching, burning with fury and misery. The white-hot flame sears through my limbs and leaves my mind in a feverish stupor. Perspiration mounts and I can feel my body crying out in enervation despite the growing fire. My control has broken, the thin seal of restraint shattered. There's no going back now. No stopping.

_BANG_

A gunshot rings through the air.


	19. Confrontation Part II

The sound of a gun breaks my trance and the redness begins to fade away, clearing my vision.

I'm suddenly aware of myself as the burning numbness evaporates from my bones. Blood is everywhere. Both Oliver's and my own, swirling together in a sticky crimson pool beneath us. The lukewarm fluid drips down my face splashes onto my hands, which are immersed in the gory mess below. Dull aches of pain flare up where my knees had slammed into the wood floor; growing cuts and bruises along my midsection, where he had attempted to fight back, sting against the harsh air with every breath I take. My head and muscles throb. I'm exhausted. It's as if the blazing, euphoric rage has simply disappeared, and left only a hollow emptiness.

I look down at my step-brother and former friend.

His white shirt had been shredded, revealing globs of sliced flesh all around his upper body. The cuts are deep, and the pale whiteness of his ribs and collarbone jut out from the mass of mangled tissue and skin. His left lung is perforated, and lies shrunken and shriveled against his still heart. Greenish bile oozes from his ruptured gallbladder and fuses with the shallow puddles of blood that swell in his abdomen. Bits of intestine poke out of the scraps of skin left clinging. The steady stream of blood from a few punctured arteries is the only thing still moving on the corpse.

There is a bullet lodged in his arm, which holds a syringe of clear fluid. Someone must have shot him and kept him from injecting me with it. I pick up the needle and slip it into my sleeve.

The boyish, childlike face that once smiled up at me is now unrecognizable. Gashes across his cheeks and forehead leave jagged clumps of tissue strewn about his features. A sizable chunk of his petite nose has been torn off and shoved into an open wound by his jawbone. The bandages across his right eye lie tattered, and the rough scars beneath have been completely overturned and pasted back on with the inside facing out. His left eye is still skewered on my knife; the yellow iris cut in half and tinged red. His feathery blond hair is now crusty and matted with blood.

Did I do all this?

Part of me takes pride in the gruesome disfiguration, and perfect and nauseating finale to our rivalry. I have won. Destroyed him. Seized vengeance for his betrayals. A monstrous end to a monster. This ought to be a joyful occasion, followed up with celebration and ecstasy.

My stomach churns and I violently retch a brown, foul-smelling slime onto him. The vomit splashes into the pools of blood and turns into a sickening concoction of sour and metallic goo. I gasp for air and stagger back onto my side.

Then I notice my surroundings.

Rin has managed to hobble up the stairs and leans heavily against the wall, clenching her fingers around her gun so hard that her knuckles are ghastly white. She points it at my sister, who is holding a katana against her throat.

The sun has set and a fiendish smile overtakes Lenka's features. She teasingly pushes the sword a bit harder, and drops of blood dribble down Rin's neck.

"Len..." Rin chokes out my name and pleadingly stares at me.

I have to save her. I vowed that I would kill anything that dares to hurt her, as only I may do so. But Lenka is my sister, the only person in the world who cared for me and loved me when everyone else abandoned me. She alone gave me happiness in the dark and painful days of my childhood. She saved me with her warmth. I want to touch her, feel her gentle hug once more.

Summoning strength that I don't have, I stumble forward and embrace that soft body. "Onee-chan, it's me." I murmur.

"My dear little brother..." She coos. "Just as cute and weak as I remember. Too bad I have to kill you."

I barely have to time to look into her menacing eyes before she raises her katana and swipes down at me.

"Stop!" Rin screams, and pulls the trigger.

The bullet grazes her side, but it is enough to make Lenka drop her weapon and yelp with pain. She clutches her arms and slams back into the wall and falls to her knees, heaving and panting. Her face contorts with varied emotions and beads of sweat form along her forehead.

"Kill...I have to kill all of you. It's what the master wishes." She shrieks, and launches herself at Rin.

As if by instinct, I yank her away from Rin and pin her arms down. Is this her second personality? Or is she simply insane? Her true nature is a mystery to me.

Sharp pain erupts in my shin as she slams her heel into it. I involuntarily release my grip and she darts out, only to throw herself against the wall.

"Get..away...from me...now!" She shrieks with difficulty, trembling and squeezing her eyes shut.

Something's wrong. She seems to be mumbling to herself, swaying back and forth, and digging her nails into her arms hard enough to draw blood. Is she fighting with her other personality? For my sake? I don't understand her. The person standing in front of me may as well be a stranger. She glares with foreign eyes that know nothing of her formerly sweet disposition.

"What should we do?" Rin asks.

For once, I am at a loss.

"Inject me with that shot. Please." Lenka groans, gesturing to the needle in my hand.

"What will it do?" If Oliver planned to use it on me, surely something terrible if not lethal.

A sad smile tugs at my sister's lips. "I love you, Len. But you don't know, you don't know what Oliver has been doing to me all these years, what I have been doing to both myself and others. He's beaten me into an empty shell and corrupted my mind. I no longer feel anything, only a desire to kill. I killed our mother without any remorse, and I will end up killing you as well. Not unless you end me right now while you have the chance."

"No. No! Onee-chan, my onee-chan. Please, let's go home. Let's play. We can have fun now. Father and O-kun aren't here anymore. It can just be us again. We finally have a chance to be together as a family, a loving family. I don't want to hurt anymore! I want to be happy...please...please." I wail, reduced to a child again, desperate for love.

But she shakes her head. "I'm afraid I'm incapable of even that. At least let me die in a moment of sanity, granted to me by the heavens above. Let me die having seen the face of my baby brother after so long, while my mind is clear. I've made my peace with the world, so grant me mercy with a serene death."

I won't. I won't let her die. I'll take her back home. We will live together. It doesn't matter how, but I will find a way. It's okay if her mind is a little broken, so is mine. We can find comfort in each other, slaughter our enemies together.

"No." I growl.

If the injection will kill her, then I'll just smash it to pieces. I raise the syringe and cock my elbow. Then a small hand snatches the syringe from my palm. Rin? What is she doing? She's betraying me, just like Oliver. How dare she. I lunge to get it back, but she easily dodges my slow and fatigued body.

"Len, you have to give your sister the dignity of a choice. It's what Oliver never gave her, what life never gave her. For once, set aside your own desires and do the right thing, even if it's painful." She says.

"But I don't want to." The only response I can offer slips out as a whimper.

Rin crouches down and ruffles my hair. "If you force her to live, you'll lose her forever. Let her leave the world that crippled her, live on in her stead, and immortalize her kindness through your memories. She deserves this."

"Just when did you get so wise?" I reply. It's unbearably difficult, and I feel a lump in my throat. But she's right. I'm...actually yielding to her words. I'm controlling myself.

She only sighs in return and gently slides the needle into Lenka's arm.

"Wait! What about your suicide note, what exactly did you write in it?" I abruptly recall and exclaim.

Was she aware of everything and tried to protect me from herself, like she wrote in the note I found? Or was she simply depressed and lost the will to live? Did she willingly go to Oliver and fake her death, or did Oliver seize and kidnap her? There's still so much I don't know.

She frowned. "What suicide note? All I remember is walking into the kitchen, then waking up in Oliver's arms."

Confusion flashes in my mind. Then who wrote...?

Lenka clasps my hand and gives it a squeeze, then turns to Rin. "Take care of him for me."

No, no this is happening too soon. I don't want her to die. There's so much left undone, so many words left unsaid. It's been years since I last saw her, years spent alone. Her first death destroyed me, drove me to kill and warped my mind into a beast. I don't think I will be able to handle her death again. I don't know what I will become.

I grab her, pull her close to me. Please, let me feel her warmth just one more time. A panicked sob escapes from my throat and I bury my face in her soft, golden hair. After all these years, the faint scent of sweet bananas still wafts in the air. Or maybe it's just my imagination. She's getting colder, limper. I can feel her presence fading away. It's terrifying. For the first time in my life, death is terrifying me.

"Onee-chan..." I whisper.

She smiles, a genuine smile as bright as the sun. "Thank you" were her last words.

As if a gate had been opened, I'm suddenly flooded with uncontrollable grief. Tears pour from my eyes and my chest feels as though a dagger had been wrenched into it. I have felt pain before. I have felt sadness before. But never have I felt such loss. The waves of sorrow engulf me and I drown in the salty depths, burning its way down to my lungs and choking my throat. I can't breath. I can't move. I can only scream and desperately cling to the warmth of Rin's hug.

Please, save me from this agony. You're all I have left.

* * *

A/N: Interpret the suicide notes however you like. Len might undergo a personality change after this chapter, still thinking about it.


	20. Something Sweet

As we left the mansion, I thought I heard a faint cry.

But that was surely my own hallucination, for everyone there should be dead.

* * *

Mother, Father, Oliver, Lenka.

They are all dead.

Everyone who caused me pain, I killed. The source of my anguish and suffering is now gone from this world. All that's left is myself, my haunting memories, and my lingering emotions. Truly, it is all buried deep in the past.

Yet now that there is no longer an outlet to my rage, what do I have left? All of my life has been consumed by catharsis and vengeance. When they are taken away, there is nothing much left of me. I suppose it's because I lack any emotion other than pain and anger, or maybe it's because I have simply lost everything that once motivated me to live and fight. The storm of my life has finally cleared, but there is no blue sky, only a blank space where the storm once resided. My mind is clear and I feel empty, void.

What do I do now?

Once the battle is over, there is nothing to do but wallow in the outcome and accept the cruel realities. The brief moment of hope upon reuniting with my sister is long gone, and I can only realize that I've lost more than I had to begin with.

I actually want the madness and pain to return. I'll endure it all once again, if only to fill the hollow emptiness of my soul. Even agony is better than nothing. Just something to fight and struggle for, something to give my life meaning. I don't feel anything anymore. The burning fires that once erupted in me are mere ashes of what used to be. Ire, grief, obsession, they have all dissipated.

It's eerie and unsettling. I want it to stop. I need something to warm me, fill me, distract me.

There's a soft knock on my door. A petite girl with a childish bow and shimmering hair enters the room, carrying a tray of assorted foods.

"You should eat something, Len." Rin gently chides.

How many days has it been since we've returned? It shouldn't be more than a few, since I haven't died of thirst yet. Eating is probably a good idea.

She sets the tray down on the nightstand and sighs. The dress she has on is short and reveals her bare legs and arms. They remain smooth and snowy white, just like how they looked on the day we met. The throbbing, pulsating desire I felt for her is strangely absent. In its place, there is a sense of serenity and fondness. I don't understand it. What is this? Is this love? I need to find out.

I slowly rise from the bed and encircle her, cornering her against the wall. I shift closer, closer, until our bodies threaten to touch. In the small space of tension between us, we can feel each other's heat but not flesh. On the dangerously thin boundary of anticipation and satisfaction, it's only natural for excitement to surge. My feelings for her must be reaffirmed; I'll make the passion return.

"L-Len?" She gasps.

With each increasingly frequent exhale, her hot breath tickles my neck. Her large and watery eyes plead innocence, while the blossoming blush underneath her cheeks says otherwise. With a hard yank, the flimsy fabric of her dress tears and reveals her lacy undergarments. The soft, trembling curves of her teenage body practically beg to be defiled and sullied with my essence. I feel my mouth begin to water with craving. Say, why don't I take a bite of your enticing flavor?

I snatch the bowl of pudding off the tray and tip the creamy contents on to her. The luscious, moisture-rich tendrils spill all over her chest and stomach.

"Kyaa! What are you doing?!" She cries out, but I easily pin her down and shove her on the floor.

I smirk. "In that case, I'll eat YOU up."

I catch the dripping drops of sweet custard with my tongue, taking my time to carefully savor every intoxicating mouthful. The taste of vanilla blooms as I lick and bite the gooey goodness off her body. I'll devour this sugary treat to erase the bitterness.

"S-Stop...!" The salty tears spill out of her wincing eyes, but it only makes the pudding taste even sweeter in comparison.

"What's with that face? You can't trick me, I know you want it." I tease.

I scoop up a bit with my finger and offer it to her.

"Here, try some. Open your mouth." I command.

Rosier than ever, she squeezes her eyes shut in embarrassment and complies, sucking the milky droplets off my index finger. Her cherry red lips and tongue pucker and salivate with every slurp. I'll save the cherry on top for last, after I finish the buttery aphrodisiac.

"Good girl." I praise.

Will drinking this warm milk help me sleep tonight? I want the acrimony to end. If I'm empty inside, then I'll fill myself up with her sweet, stimulating desserts. If you're the only I truly love, then please help me. I'm starving, there's a hollowness in me. Satisfy me.

My tongue laps up every inch of the treat, exploring all her different parts. Through her stifled moans and quivering, I easily detect her most sensitive places and take extra time to nibble and suck at the flesh. I inhale the tantalizing aromas wafting from a blend of the pudding, the soaps and shampoo she uses, and her natural scent.

I frown a little as I come across a faint mark of her bullet wound from the fight at Oliver's mansion. Although it has healed, the memory still lingers and the scar becomes visible at the slightest touch.

Reacting to my pause, Rin feebly murmurs "Len?"

"Nothing." I reply.

I gently kiss and lick the scarred area with just enough force to make her loudly gasp with exhilaration. I'll replace whatever memory that mark holds into one of me, until she flushes with embarrassment and excitement whenever she sees it. It will serve as a constant reminder of my presence, my love for her.

I attack her relentlessly, with immediate consequences.

As I work my way through the layers of cream, I come upon an area with melting syrup. The silky cloth separating me from the peak of indulgence is soaked with her fragrant honey. Suddenly eating is not enough. I'm still hungry. I need more.

Piece by piece, the scraps of fabric fall from my body. Shedding the outer layers, I allow the beast inside me to take over. I'll take her everything, and make her mine with more than a mere mark.

For a brief second, our eyes meet. Fear, shyness, lust; her irises spell out what her lips fail to say. There's an understanding that doesn't need words, a spark of shared affection and heat. This time, she obeys me without resistance. She nimbly unhooks her bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. I spend seconds, merely taking in the sight. She shivers without the protection of her clothing, and I quickly pull her against me for warmth.

No more waiting. I stand up, holding her close to my chest, and walk back to the bed. Once there, I immediately toss her onto her back and jump on top of her.

In the orange glow of the late afternoon light, we dance and intertwine under the concealment of the sheets. She shudders and whimpers in pain as we become one, but even the sound of her bright and sharp voice only entices me further. I caress her several other pleasure spots with my fingers, and encourage her to continue accepting me. We meld together and match our paces, carefully working towards complete harmony. Sweat, saliva, and other fluids are exchanged as we open all our boundaries and allow the connection to flow freely.

The mounting heat swells; I can't restrain it any longer. In a burst of ecstasy, it explodes and blocks out all other emotion with an overpowering high. The screams and shrieks follow involuntarily, but fall upon deaf ears. Together, in a shared trance of bliss, we can only rely on instinct to keep our bodies moving.

"Len...I...I love...you.." She chokes out in between pants.

The simple phrase strikes a chord in me and my throat tightens. To finally hear her say it is far more impactful than I had ever expected. My spirits rise astronomically and pure joy expands in my chest. She loves me. I am the one she loves. I grin like a fool. I can't help it.

"I mean this from the depths of my heart when I say that I love you back, more than you could ever imagine." I state.

She somehow manages to blush even deeper, and lets out a relieved smile. With the sorrows of the past behind us, the two of us embrace in our own world of pleasure.

The exhaustion that follows is numbing, but relished in contentedness and satisfaction. As we return to our senses, the only sound to be heard is our ragged breathing. Muscles relaxing, she nestles snugly into my arms. I feel her sink into sleep, completely worn out.

Even if it's temporary, even if the emptiness comes back to haunt me tomorrow, this moment is enough to warm me for a lifetime. Maybe I don't need the anger and insanity anymore. Maybe I can find other emotions to fill the void. I close my eyes and wait for a different tomorrow.


	21. The Pitiful Demon

A/N: I'm going to start switching perspectives between characters more often. This time, the story is going to have more focus on Rin, with Len by her side instead of the other way around. I'm also introducing a new character I'm excited about, and I hope you guys will be okay with him stealing a bit of Len's spotlight (But don't worry, the blond yandere is still the protagonist).

* * *

I always wear headphones when I leave the protection of the cardboard box I live in, so that I can pretend I can't hear the whispers and jeers of the people around me.

It's been this way for as long as I can remember. The staring, pointing, fear, revulsion, and sometimes mockery. I used to hide my disfigurations with coats and face masks as much as possible, to the point of heat stroke in the summer. But I soon realized that surface level concealment was only temporary, and that people would run away and turn their backs on me the second they caught a glimpse of my face or arm. It's better to just let it all show, and avoid getting false expectations of others.

The only ones who don't show immediate disgust are children, who are merely curious. They do not yet have malice in their hearts, which are open and accepting.

"What happened to that boy, mommy?" A young girl asked.

"Don't look at him. Just stay away from that freak and keep walking." Her mother responded.

Yet it isn't long before their open-minded, innocent thoughts are blackened and twisted by the adults. And so, the cycle continues and each generation practices the same prejudice and judgement taught to them without question. As the "monster", there isn't anything I can say or do to change their rigid outlook.

I was born with skin deformations along the left side of my face and body. Combined with my red hair and eyes, my mother thought I was a demon and left me in a garbage dump to die. As such actions are fairly illegal, authority figures reluctantly handed me off to orphanage after orphanage. Not a single caretaker wanted anything to do with me.

In particular, there was a nun who was convinced that I was the spawn of Satan. She sliced the middle of my face into an "X" to brand me, then tried to drown me in holy water. Turns out I'm pretty resilient. It also turned out that the nun was the very last person in the prefecture willing to house me, and I ended up on the streets after she kicked me out.

"There is no salvation for you, for you are filthier than the devil himself! Suffer and die, demon spawn." Were her last words to me.

The government issued me some money out of obligation, but no one would sell me a place to live or offer me a job. Spending my days in the darkest, grimiest alleyways, it wasn't long before I contracted an infection. My left eye turned completely red and lost its vision.

My life was at the mercy of the people around me. Some ignored me, some stared and gossiped about me, and some took to beating me with stones.

However, there was one girl who showed sincere concern for me. Every day, she would bring me some food and hand-me-downs from her older brother. Her bright and clean figure contrasted painfully against the dark and dirty me. I tried to detect hatred or trickery from her, but found none. I didn't understand.

"Why are you doing this? Aren't you horrified by me?" I wondered.

She replied with a gentle smile. "Why would I be? You're just a little different. That's no reason for you to have to suffer so much."

That was probably the first time I cried.

Any form of pain or torture, I could endure. My earliest moments were spent in putrid-smelling trash, and abuse was just every day life. But I was a stranger to kindness, and nothing made me feel more vulnerable. You can't really miss something you never had, but even a fraction of it is enough to break your heart. The indescribable sadness that this is what I had spent my whole life without brought an endless stream of tears.

"What's your name?" She asked, wiping my ugly face with her dainty handkerchief.

"Fukase." I choked out.

"That's a nice name. I'm Rin!" She beamed, showing a row of pearly white teeth very different from mine.

Rin was also the first person to ask my name. Such a simple action that was mere polite small talk for others meant the world to me. It meant that she saw me as a human being, and treated me like an equal. In that moment, she became precious to me.

"Well I have to go now, but I'll come back tomorrow. Take care of yourself!" Rin said.

But one day she stopped coming. I tried looking for her around town, but saw no glimpse of her. Did she move away? Did something happen to her? Was she in an accident or extremely ill? Was I just a charity case that she grew bored of?

"Hey ugly!" Someone called out as I searched for her.

I tried walking past him, but his friends showed up and surrounded me.

"Oh my god look at this kid! What the fuck is up with his skin?" One of the delinquents screeched. The others roared with laughter.

"Please excuse me." I muttered, but they didn't budge.

"What a freak! We'll be doing the world a favor if we squash this bug, right?" The man sneered.

"How cowardly. Three grown men with nothing better to do taking on a teenager." I glared at them.

"The fuck! Pound this little freak into the ground!" He shouted.

I didn't flinch when my back slammed into the gravel. The punches and kicks were dull in comparison to sharp rocks and knives. I could feel the bruising and swelling escalating into broken bones, but my face failed to even wince. Like a dummy, I just laid and waited for it to end.

"What in the actual hell is wrong with this trash?" The man yelled.

I heard the click of a gun and prepare for the end. Then I remembered Rin. If I ever wanted to meet her again, I had to live. My broken body was difficult to maneuver, but I managed to leap back up and pound the main attacker. With blood dripping down my scarred face and my left eye fully visible, it must have been a terrifying sight.

I screamed and fought, with her words "take care of yourself" ringing in my head. And I landed in juvenile detention. Because it was obviously my fault for defending myself. Once again, people's instant discrimination against those who looked different shone.

In a twist of fate, I met a pair of twins in juvie who happened to be friends with Rin. I learned that she was kidnapped by a psychopath and locked in his house. And so I decided to save her.

"Don't make me laugh, a useless beast like you is going to manage that?" Miku scoffed.

Her brother agreed. "I fought him, and Len's surprisingly strong despite his size. Besides, his house is in isolation under high security. I got her out once with the cops on my side, but you won't be able to do anything on your own."

He had a point. I was indeed powerless by myself, and there were a minuscule number of people who would help me. In fact, these two might be the only ones with enough motivation to put up with me.

"Well would I have to be on my own? Don't you two want revenge? This Len guy soiled your reputation, nearly killed you, and sent you here. If we join forces, we might be able to defeat him." I offered.

The twins considered it.

"I suppose I do want to rip apart that arrogant maniac-" Miku started "- and get back Rin." Mikuo chimed in.

"But what's the use in having you?" Miku questioned.

I sighed. "I might just be the only person capable of withstanding whatever pain Len inflicts."

* * *

Wearing nothing but my thin bathrobe, Rin looked both beautiful and seductive standing on the balcony.

I got out of bed and crept behind her, hugging her waist and drawing her close to me. She was now no longer an untouched maiden, and belonged solely to me. I was her first for everything, and I also intend to be her last. Her entire life shall be mine to possess and control. Truly fitting for a doll and her master.

When she continued staring into space and not at me, I grew impatient. "Just what are you doing without me?" I whispered sultrily in her ear.

Her eyes quickly snapped back to reality and she gasped. "E-Eh? Nothing...just watching the sunset and thinking."

"About what?" I probed. It better be about me.

She looked down guiltily. "It's nothing really, just this person I once knew."

"Is it a he?" I growled.

I took her silence as a yes and grew enraged. How dare she think of another man right after giving her virginity to me? I'll surely find out who he is and hunt him down. But first, I need to forcefully make sure I'M the only person in her thoughts.

In a fluid motion, I swept her from the floor and carried her back into the room.

"Kyaa! What are you doing?" She yelped.

"Reminding you that I am the one you love." I snarled back.

Kicking aside the blanket, I pushed her down onto the bed and came down on top of her. I believe it's safe to say that I occupied her thoughts for at least the next hour.

These peaceful days that I spend with my lover are truly blissful. I have finally found closure in my life and moved on to a brighter future with my beloved Rin. It won't be long before it's time to take the next step. I wonder what gemstones would suit her best? Surely not something as plain and overused as a diamond. Something unique and perfect. I will only accept absolute perfection when it comes to her.

But for the moment, I can spare some time to just savor the present and burn every second I spend with her into my memory. I'll get to know everything about her, from her preferences to each and every one of her quirks. Rin is different from Lenka, and will inhabit her own place in my heart. Now that my mind is clear, I can devote my entire self to her.

As for the mystery man from her past, I'll obviate her memories of him and replace him with me. No one will come between us. I'll protect our relationship with every weapon at my disposal and spill as much blood as needed.


	22. Preparing for School

"I'll slice open your innards, you piece of shit!" I yelled.

Raising my weapon, I dashed towards the enemy and swung it across its abdomen. Blood spurted out and my foe fell to the ground with a grunt. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to kill him and he rose back up, angrier than ever.

I smirked. "Looks like this is going to be more fun than I expected."

My opponent was fast, but I was faster. Faking a swipe to the left, I swiveled around and rammed my blade deep into his side. A laugh escaped from my throat as I easily side-stepped his last ditch effort to hit me. Truly pathetic. Will weaklings like this be all I will get to fight?

As if to answer my question, a swarm of the dead guy's minions came and surrounded us. Bulky and tall, they appeared to be very strong but lacked both speed and intellect. Simpletons like this would be easy to strategize against, though it would require a fair bit of stamina on my end to keep up with so many.

"Watch out, Len!" Rin cried.

It seems I underestimated their swiftness. I quickly ducked out of the way from a punch and beat the attacker back with a small throwing knife. I would have to be more careful, as I only had a few of them left in my bag.

I dashed back to stood in front of Rin. "Stay behind me, it would be bad if one of them hit you."

To my surprise, Rin grinned. "Oh don't worry; I can handle opponents like this easily."

"Eh?" I asked.

With a wide ranged flame wall spell, Rin damaged all the minotaurs at once and knocked their HP down sizably. Impressive. So this is the capability of the mage class. However, the only drawback was the cool down time. As the monsters started crowding around us again, it would be up to me to finish the job.

I charged, swinging my longsword in a circular fashion. Three down, three to go. One of the minotaurs jabbed me with a sharp horn, dealing over 150 hit points in damage. This was bad, I would have to find a way to attack without being attacked.

Unfortunately, it seems that I shall have to use up the last of my throwing knives. Oh well, those were technically designed for the rogue class anyways. I would be better off spending my gold on fighter class items.

In a triple-hit combo, I successfully defeated them. The dropped items were fantastic this time. An ultra-rare blade of awe, 500 gold pieces, Hermes' sandals, and a crystal rune staff.

Unable to contain my excitement, I shouted. "Yes!"

"Enjoying the video game? I told you modern technology was awesome." Rin teased.

Upon her insistence, I had agreed to buy a console and a couple popular games. I suppose it wouldn't be too bad to be a bit more connected to the world. Now that I have her by my side, I no longer need to commit heavy crimes and stay untraceable. I can simply enjoy her constant company instead.

"Now let's try out all this new equipment and go shopping at the bazaar. I think we should buy a dragon egg with this money." I said.

Rin shook her head. "I need to work on my homework. School is starting soon and I'm nowhere near done with all the assignments Kiyoteru-sensei gave us."

I groaned. The only reason I went to a dreadful high school was to make sure Rin was mine and mine alone. Now that I have eliminated the teal-haired twins, school feels unnecessary.

"Forget it. I'll have us both withdrawn. We can study under my personal tutor instead." I offered.

"Absolutely not!" She shrieked. "I spent countless hours studying to get into that school. Do you know how prestigious my high school is? It was a miracle that I passed the entrance exams AND got a tuition exemption. There's no way I'm dropping out so soon."

Huh. I had no idea that filthy, jail-like concoction was actually desirable to her. Well if my princess wishes it so, then I suppose I will have to go along. This might be a good chance to investigate that pink-haired girl I often saw. Just what is her relationship with Rin? Do I need to eliminate her as well?

On the plus side, it's been a while since I've seen my little doll dressed up in her uniform. The innocent yet tantalizing outfit is probably the only thing schools these days do right.

* * *

After another week at juvenile detention, I was released as an emancipated minor. Sounds great, but I imagine it's just so the government no longer has to look after me. If it weren't for Miku and Mikuo, I would have returned to living on the streets, most likely as a beggar without money from the government. I'm grateful to them, even if their motive for sheltering me is purely dependent on a shared interest on bringing back Rin.

"Stay in the basement while our parents are home. They go to work before us so it should be safe for you to go to school through the front door." Mikuo explained.

"Thank you so much. I don't know how to repay you." I confessed.

Miku scoffed. "Don't get the wrong idea or anything. You're just here to deal with Len and work for us. Your servitude and cooperation is the price for our generosity."

"Of course." I replied.

I'm well aware that I'm nothing more than a tolerated presence to them, that I'm out the door the second this is all over. It doesn't matter, as long as I can keep living and see Rin again. It doesn't matter how I'm used or treated along the way. If it's for her, I will gladly endure anything.

Besides, my current situation is far better than I could have hoped for. The Hatsune's basement isn't exactly the epitome of luxury, but it's clean and comfortable enough to live in. Mostly used for storage, stacks of cardboard boxes fill the room. Other than a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and a small window opposite the creaky stairs, a medium sized area of concrete floor is all I have. A bit dusty, but perfectly acceptable.

Sitting quietly in the corner, I observe the twins and quickly figure out what's going on in their minds. It's a bit of a talent of mine, reading people. I'm able to see beyond the masks and appearances that people put on and understand their true nature. All I have to do is watch.

Mikuo isn't a bad person, but he's on the self-serving side and rather fickle in his interests. He expresses a certain degree of loyalty to those he is close to, and can be very quick to jump to conclusions about people he isn't. For now, he believes that he may have feelings for Rin, and thus has his sights set on rescuing her. Though, I believe his main motive has to do with his wounded pride from losing to Len. I can rely on his assistance for the time being, but I must be careful not to push him too much, as he can easily turn his back on people who betray him.

His sister Miku, on the other hand, is surprisingly resilient. At first glance, she is vain, shallow, condescending, and callous towards others. A typical popular high school girl who gets egotistic from being worshipped by everyone else. However, I can tell there's more to her than that. Despite her nastiness, Miku is unwavering in her determination to save Rin. She's incredibly emotionally involved, far exceeding the concern of a mere friend. Rin appears to be genuinely valuable to her.

Although haughty and demanding, it was Miku who angrily tossed my cardboard box into a dumpster and dragged me to her house.

"Here." She curtly snapped, throwing a futon and blanket at me. She also held a plastic bag filled with food from a convenience store, which she placed on the stairs.

"Thank you...I really mean it." I responded.

To this, she glared at me and grumbled. "S-Shut up! This is for my sake, so that I don't look like some kind of slave owner. I don't care about you at all!"

Her personality is definitely interesting. Miku seems to be someone who doesn't like showing her true feelings. She constantly rants about her hatred for Len, but I can tell she's just worried about Rin. School seems to just be a place for her to socialize and gain reputation, but every night she diligently studies and finishes all her homework neatly. She's dishonest to the people around her, perhaps out of insecurity or embarrassment. In any case, I don't have to worry about her too much.

School is going to be a challenge. I was able to enroll on a scholarship for children with "hardships", but the school's attitude towards me is sure to change once they see me. I'm fine with bullying. I've been through far worse than petty tricks played by high schoolers. My main concern is approaching Rin and finding a way to talk to her away from Len.

The prospect of seeing her again warms me, and I'm able to sleep peacefully for the first time in years. I pull the blanket around my body and inhale. It's freshly washed and smells faintly of fabric softener. Upon closer inspection, all the food in the plastic bag is nutritiously balanced as well. It reminds me of the bentos and laundered clothes Rin used to bring me. I smile to myself.

Wait for me, Rin. I'm coming to you.


	23. A Fateful Reunion

It seems there's a new student in the year above Rin and me. 'Monster' is what people have been calling him. The cruel rumors whispered by ignorant fools circulate the hallways and inevitably become known by everyone in the school.

They say he is some kind of unnatural existence, a reaper of death, vampire, maybe even a malicious spirit. There's an aura of fear surrounding him, an aura that may or may not be well deserved.

I frankly couldn't give a rat's ass about him.

Scary? Threatening? Going to haunt you at night if you don't say a Hail Mary? Preposterous. The only thing mildly disturbing about this entire situation is the sheer number of dimwits who mindlessly believe gossip and will not hesitate to spread any lick of information that floats into their empty minds. I hate the absolute riffraff that my beloved princess has to see every day. The stifling, toxic air of stupidity that my pure Rin inhales every waking moment in this blasted school.

"Kagamine Len!" The vexing voice of the teacher cuts into my thoughts. If he ever dares to speak Rin's name, I will see to it that he is fired or perhaps strangled to death. Whichever one comes first.

I leisurely lift my head up from my hand and raise an eyebrow in response.

He pushes his glasses further up with a finger and smirks, "I'm sorry you don't find my class interesting enough to pay attention. Since I assume this is because you already know all of the material, why don't you tell the class the tense and mood of this Latin sentence on the board? Do go in detail."

I sigh and glance at the haphazardly written, rudimentary phrase on the chalkboard.

_Poema a scribebatur Publio_

"It's in the imperfect passive, with 'Publio' as an ablative of agent performing the action. I don't know why you chose to use hyperbaton, or maybe you just don't understand Latin word order. I'm not sure what you mean by 'in detail' with such an elementary sentence. Shall I rewrite it in the active? Or perhaps I could enlighten you on the potential and purpose of rhetorical devices in Roman poetry. Why sensei, with this level, you can't even hold a candle to Virgil." I drawled.

Latin was a language I learned at a very young age to use as a stepping stone to the other Romantic languages. Something of this caliber is laughable at the high school level. As I suspected, this place is unworthy of Rin.

The teacher's composure evaporated, and he seemed to be struggling to respond. A few snickers drifted from the back of the classroom. After clearing his throat a few times, he spoke again.

"Um, very good. But I don't appreciate the disrespect, as I am perfectly well educated and wrote this sentence very intentionally. You're off the hook this time, but if you ever give me cheek again I'll have you stay after school."

I scoffed, maintaining eye contact. Challenging his authority, I felt a sense of satisfaction when he turned away first, ever so slightly bowing down his head as he turned to the next topic. As long as he knows his place.

After the dismissal bell rang, Rin bounded up to me.

"That was kinda awesome. I didn't know you were so knowledgeable." She chirped, playfulness dancing in her irises.

Hearing her speak soothes the irritation brought on by the teacher. Her sweet, melodic voice replays over and over in my head and I can't help but smile. The desire to monopolize these traits of hers, to hold them tightly to my chest and keep with me, is overwhelming. I don't want her talking to anyone but me.

A wave of people coming from other classrooms flood the hallway, and a small boy with girlish white hair bumps into the shoulder of my princess. Hurting her. Dirtying her with his filth.

Enraged, I grab his collar and shove him up against the wall. How dare he? This crass bastard. Which part of his body came into contact with hers? Which part of his body do I need to carve out and toss into hydrochloric acid?

"Don't you ever touch Rin again! I'll kill you. I'll hunt you down to the ends of the earth and slice off your flesh piece by piece." I growl.

His dichromatic eyes fill with tears and he trembles like a mouse, unable to make a sound. A faint odor wafts into the air and I notice a dark spot on his pants slowly spreading. Pathetic.

A pair of soft hands pulls me away.

"Stop it, Len. You're scaring the poor boy." Rin pleas.

I instantly whip around. Is she defending the parasite that defiled her shoulder? Does she care about him? Is that weakling of a person a rival?

My panic is quickly quieted as she slips her hand into mine, intertwining our fingers.

She smiles. "See? This should work well against the crowd."

I grasp her hand tighter, feeling the delicate bone structure and warmth of her palm. It's very pleasant, and I make a mental note to do this more often. In the meantime, I strategically place myself between her and the incoming traffic to shield her from the walking pests in this school.

An hour of time is allotted to lunch. Normally I would have a bento prepared by a personal chef and go somewhere secluded, but Rin has persuaded me to try the melon bread in the cafeteria. Not that I would admit it to anyone, but I have a bit of a soft spot for sweets, so I reluctantly agreed. I tried placing a reservation beforehand to avoid the crowd, but apparently school cafeterias don't work like that. Plebeians.

After getting our food, I take Rin to the rooftop to eat. The door is locked, but it's nothing I can't pick. The floor, or should I say roof, is surprisingly well kept but still not up to the standards I expect for my princess. I pull out my blue handkerchief and unfold it onto the ground for her to sit on.

Rin takes out a carton of strawberry milk and drinks with relish. Interesting. Among the various rumors flowing through the hallways, there was one in particular that stood out.

"Say Rin...I overheard some girls talking about how strawberry milk helps your breasts grow. Would you happen to know of this?" I innocently ask.

Rin gasps, nearly spitting out the milk. Her face turns a bright red and contorts into anger and embarrassment.

"Len, you BAKA!" She screeches, and whacks my arm. So it appears she does know.

I chuckle. "There's no need for that reaction. You should know that I will love and cherish every inch of your body no matter or much or how little of it there is. In fact, the you right now is already very appealing."

She glares at me is response and turns away, evidently sulking. She's probably the only person in the world whose antics I tolerate.

I pick up the melon bread and take a bite to placate her. "This bread is pretty good. Thank you for introducing me to it."

"...told you." She mumbles, still not turning around.

I'll humor her for a bit more. "Is it always this delicious? This soft, spongy, moist interior contrasts perfectly with the sugar coated, crunchy cookie dough on the outside. With every bite I take, my mouth waters for more."

At this, Rin slowly peeks at me and stares at the dessert with longing. How childish and adorable.

"Want a bite?" I offer it to her.

She leans forward, then turns pink and shyly draws back. "That's an indirect kiss."

So? I scoot closer to her. "You can't possibly be shy about this after what we did in my bedroom the other day."

"H-Hey! Quiet down!" She squeaks.

"Why? There's no one here." I argue.

Indeed, we have the entire area to ourselves, meaning I can get away with whatever I want. A streak of mischief enters my mind and I crawl closer to her, until our foreheads are an inch apart. I cup my free hand around the back of her head and tilt it a bit higher, until our faces are level. She squeezes her eyes shut in anticipation and puckers her lips ever so slightly.

"Open your mouth." I command.

She gulps, but obeys.

I stuff the melon bread into her mouth and her eyes snap open in shock. She makes a muffled sound before fully realizing what happened, then tears off a chunk of the bread and voraciously chews it. Her lips form into a pout and she unsuccessfully hides her disappointment.

Her face is irresistibly cute, and I can't help but push her further. While she's distracted, I quickly snatch a kiss from her and retreat before she can react.

"You're always teasing me like this!" She whines.

"I know."

The early afternoon sun shines down on us. The light that I once despised feels warm and oddly relaxing. I'm becoming sleepy, as if my eyelids are involuntarily drooping down. Fatigue from staying up the night before pounds down on my muscles and I slump down, resting my head on her thighs.

"Eh? Len?' She stammers.

"Wake me up when lunchtime is over." I mutter.

A gentle breeze ruffles my hair and I realize that it's her hand. "Sorry, but I'm afraid that would be in about two minutes. We need to start getting back to class."

I groan.

We walk side by side down the stairs and through the halls. With the majority of the students either in class already or remaining in the cafeteria, the path is relatively empty. We pass by a certain janitor's closet that we had hid in the first day I arrived here. The memory is nostalgic, and also makes me want to create new memories in it.

I motion to the door, a sly smile working its way into my face. "Why don't we skip class and spend some quality time together in there. I've got some creative...ideas we can try out."

Rather than a flustered reply, I'm met with a strange silence.

"Rin?"

She stands still, staring at something in particular. Or someone, upon closer examination. I follow her line of sight and see a boy just a bit older than us with scraggly red hair swept into a large bang on his left side. A rough scar in the shape of an "X" resides on the bridge of his nose. Odd deformations protrude along the left side of his neck and his left hand, peeking out from his long-sleeved shirt. The single eye that peers out from his ashen skin is a deep crimson.

Is this the rumored "demonic" transfer student? Is Rin watching him frozen with fear? As I observe her facial expression, it does not seem to be the case. Her eyes are astonished, but sad and soft. The small crease between her eyebrows gives away not revulsion, but concern. Her mouth is slightly ajar, as though she is trying to find the words to say. Could it be that the two of them have history?

Rin sharply inhales. "F..."

The boy immediately cringes and looks away. What is he imagining? The word "freak" comes into my mind.

Startling both me and him, Rin exclaims "Fukase!"

Before I can reach out and stop her, my beloved runs into his chest and wraps him in a tight embrace. He gapes in shock, then slumps against her, reciprocating the hug. They start to smile and chat with tears in their eyes, absorbed in their own world. Has Rin forgotten about me? My presence behind her, witnessing it all?

It suddenly becomes hard to breath. It feels as though my ribcage was compressed by a hot iron cage. I try to scream, but the air in my lungs comes out choked and strangled. Heat rises to my face and my head begins to throb. What is this emotion?

Through labored breaths, I muster up the strength to walk forward, steps sluggish. I need to get him away from her. There's a switchblade in my pocket. I'll stab him. I'll kill him for making her smile, for making her sing her angelic voice to him. I'll...

I'm suddenly yanked back by a whirl of blue-green hair.


End file.
